Master in Deceiving
by Yours Truly
Summary: Legolas kept a secret in Moria that he believes led to the downfall of Gandalf. As he struggles to handle his guilt, Legolas' role in the fellowship becomes a weak link that might endanger the whole quest. (Unfinished)
1. A Moment of Weakness

Disclaimer: Gee, let me check... nope, not mine. 

Author Notes: This is the very first Lord of the Rings fanfiction I've ever written, so I hope it works. It's honestly writing itself :) Blame any spelling or grammar errors on the fact that English is my second language, Spanish being my first. Also, the elvish in this story is put on the way I believe it to be. I'm sure it has a lot of mistakes on it, since I just searched for each word and placed it... So, just pretend it's spelled correctly ok? ;)

Anyway, enjoy!

Master in Deceiving  
By Yours Truly

The sun shone on the sky, and the beautiful scenery shone with it, giving nature an air of total perfection. Mountains rose towards the sun's rays, magnificent and ancient. Birds' songs could be heard faintly from the greenery and yet the melody they sang was a sad one. The song rang out like a lament, slower and sweeter than the creatures' normal notes.

Nobody in the company of eight travelers took notice of any of this. For them, this beautiful place could have been as dark as the caves of Moria, and they never would have noticed. Each of them walked on unrelentlessly while wrapped in their own thoughts; each of them were trapped in their own pain.

The steps of the fellowship were slow and heavy, as they moved farther and farther away from the place where they lost one of their companions. Gandalf the Grey, lost to the shadows of Moria. The last they had seen of him was an image of legends: a brave wizard sacrificing himself for them, facing unspeakable evil for their safe passage. Incongruently, the last they had heard of him was a cry for them to run, a reprimand and a warning of the danger.

"Fly, you fools."

The whisper of a voice made the whole group halt in surprise and even the sad melody of the birds seemed to pause around them. One by one, the company turned to look at the owner of the soft words, who stood frozen a few paces behind as if enchanted. Standing still as a statue, he remained oblivious to their stares as he looked straight ahead, seemingly seeing nothing. Aragorn was the first to react, frowning in puzzlement as he went to his friend's side.

"What was it you said?" The ranger inquired gently, placing his hand on the smaller shoulder.

Blue eyes, wide with something like fear, or maybe shock, turned slowly to study Aragorn's face. Seconds dragged by as those orbs gained their focus, seeing Aragorn's features twist with concern before them.

The usually warm and happy voice was nothing more than a whisper of cold wind as it made itself heard.

"Fly, you fools." Legolas repeated softly, his tone even weaker than before as if the words themselves hurt him. The Elf was then quick to avert his gaze from the gray eyes in front of him, choosing to stare into the distance over Aragorn's shoulder.

"Legolas?" Aragorn's voice seemed to ring too loud next to the soft voice of Legolas and the absolute silence of the rest of the fellowship. "What is the matter?"

"_Guruthos gar Mithrandir," _ Legolas whispered, "_Ir ha can an enni_." ("The shadow of death has Gandalf, when it called for me").

The color drained from Aragorn's face as the others stared at them, confused. Boromir was the first to break the stillness, taking a step in the direction of where the Elf and the Ranger stood.

"What did he say, Aragorn?" The Steward of Gondor spoke, voice tinted with uncertainty.

"It had something to do with Gandalf; he said 'Mithrandir', the elvish name he held." Frodo added as Sam nodded behind him. The silence stretched on as an anwser was expected, but none seemed forthcoming.

Aragorn ignored their questions as he stood directly in front of Legolas, filling his line of vision to force him to look him in the eyes. "What does that mean?"

"It did." Legolas said finally, in the Common Tongue, before slipping back into Elvish, seemingly without noticing. _"I annon an Moria ped: 'Anno i cunn.'_ " (The great gate of Moria spoke: "Give the prince.")

"Why didn't you say something about this?" Aragorn bit out lowly, anger taking the place of his previous confusion. He didn't even notice he spoke in the Common Tongue, nor did he notice the fellowship's rapt attention. "Why not warn us?"

"_Neth cunn raeg._" Legolas laughed bitterly, the sound harsh and at odds with his ethereal features,"_Nauth im maethadan ha._" (The prince was wrong. I thought I would fight against it)

After a small pause, Legolas sorrowfully added. "_She maetha ha an enni_." (He fought it for me.)

Aragorn took a breath and looked away, trying to put order to his thoughts. He did not know what to think about what he had just heard from his oldest friend. Could it be? Was Legolas' silence to blame for Gandalf's demise?

It couldn't be true. Of course it was not.

Looking once more to the troubled face of his elven friend, the man shook his head and finally turned back to the rest of the fellowship. "We must keep going if we hope to reach Lothlorien before long. Boromir, lead the way."

There was a long pause, as each looked between Ranger and Elf, trying to understand the situation. In the end, they nodded and started walking once more, throwing worried glances back to Legolas' pale face.

The Elf, unperturbed by the looks, looked up towards Aragorn, openly studying his face. Guilt, pain and grief shone plainly in his eyes, and the fear of his friend's opinion was not difficult to read. Faced with such a look, Aragorn did not know how to react. Still uncertain as to what he should feel, Aragorn grabbed Legolas' arm and walked on with him, not saying a word. His eyes, hard and unreadable, remained steadily on the path and did not stray towards the visage of his grief-stricken friend. It was so that the man did not see the flash of agony that crossed it like lightening in a storm.

"Estel?" The Elf's voice rang, almost childish in its need, and so quiet that- had there been wind- it would never have been heard.

In lieu of a response, Aragorn gripped the thin arm he held a little tighter and his steps hastened their pace. "Let us hurry Legolas. We cannot linger in these parts and we must catch up with the rest of the fellowship."

It was la feeble excuse, and the man knew it well, but Aragorn honestly did not know what else to say.

Legolas, for his part, understood far too much his friend's reluctance to reassure him. Reeling still from the shock and the grief, the Elf followed numbly the lead of the Ranger, thinking about and yet unable to even attempt to form a suitable apology for the error of his ways. He could not forgive himself, and he certainly could not expect absolution from anyone else.

Because of him they had lost Gandalf.  
His dear friend, Mithrandir, was _dead_.

Aragorn never noticed the silent twin tears that fell from stormy blue eyes. He did not see the sorrow cloud the eyes of his friend, and it was so that he did not realize the change in Legolas as he led the slender Elf by an iron grip on his arm. Crossing the path with the large strides that had earned him his nickname, Aragorn soon reached the rest of his companions, dragging Legolas along. The Elf did not look up into their concerned faces, lost in guilt-ridden thoughts of his own devise.

Frodo stole glances at the formely cheerful Elf a few times, then at Aragorn's serious visage, vainly trying to understand what had upset them so. It was Gandalf's...demise, most probably, for that affected them all. And yet, Frodo knew there was something else, hidden in Legolas' words in a language none but Aragorn understood fully. Curious and worried as he was, in the end, the ring bearer did not want to stick his nose where he knew it did not belong.

"Aragorn, what is wrong with Legolas? I don't understand elvish. What was it he said before?" Pippin, however…

The Ranger sighed at the hobbit's lack of tact, and turned to face him. Pippin did not seem troubled at the scrutiny, merely raising his eyebrows at the man. "I don't think it is my place to tell you, Master Pippin. You will have to ask Legolas if he wishes to tell you."

It was, of course, a way for the hobbit to drop the subject for the moment, but the little one didn't seem to get that. Merry sighed inwardly at what he knew was coming next. His cousin was still too young, it seemed, to understand the Ranger's blatant attempt to let the matter rest.

"Master Elf, what is troubling you?" Merry's eyebrows shot upwards when it wasn't Pippin's voice the one to voice the question, turning to glance at Sam. Sam shrugged off his incredulous look and turned his attention back to the silent Elf at his side. At first it seemed as if Legolas had not heard him- which, considering his superior hearing, was quite unlikely- but then the blond head turned towards the gentle hobbit with a troubled little smile.

"If you knew, Master Samwise, what it is that troubles me, you would loathe the very sight of me in future days." The melodic voice answered sadly, making most of the company look at him in bafflement. "Let me just tell you that only seven of you might be continuing on this quest after Lothlorien, for I have proven myself unworthy to belong to this fine group of brave young ones." The last part of this statement was meant for Sam's ears only, and the little hobbit nearly stopped dead in his tracks.

"What are you referring to, Master Legolas? Without you, we might have been easily defeated by the orcs in Moria!" Samwise frowned as the Elf turned away from his gaze, as if ashamed. That wasn't normal behavior for a member of such a proud race as the elves.

"Believe me, kind Sam. Moria was the place where I failed all of you. Later you will understand, and think that it best for me to leave you now, before I damage you all further." Legolas answered serenely, eyes distant.

Confused, Sam was about to say something else, when he saw that Aragorn had stopped his march.

"We should make camp." His voice was heard clearly in the silence, bringing all the travelers to a halt. "Night is falling over us too soon."

Merry and Pippin happily complied; quickly, they dumped all the packs they carried onto the floor, before settling down themselves. Frodo sat next to them, more slowly, less interested in resting as Gandalf's death still weighted heavily on his mind. With a last glance at the saddened Elf, Sam went to join the other hobbits. Aragorn started a fire and Boromir went to find water, as Gimli spread his blankets near the heat of the awakening flames. Legolas, unnoticed by all, climbed swiftly onto the highest branch of a tree a few feet away from the fellowship; there he sat, doing nothing, seeing nothing, thinking a thousand things at once.

Boromir soon returned with enough water to drown a hobbit, and then with Gimli went to hunt for anything that could pass for a healthy dinner for nine. Sam occupied himself by walking around the camp, looking for some herbs to build a salad, as Pippin was set to the task of looking for branches to keep the fire burning. Merry took out the last of the food he had stored in his pack- a red apple from Rivendell- and shared it with Frodo as both hobbits sat in silence, thinking of the last time they had been in the Shire.

Aragorn struggled to keep the fire burning and was about to call out for Pippin to hurry, when the young hobbit returned with so many branches in his arms, that he could not possibly see his own two feet. The youngest hobbit walked unsteadily forward with his precious burden and, without really noticing, finally dumped all the branches onto Aragorn's head. Happy laughter was heard through the clearing as the fellowship witnessed the scene while Pippin turned a lovely shade of white at the Ranger's expression. Aragorn stood up slowly, a small branch or five still stuck on his hair, glaring at the hobbit in front of him who smiled weakly back at his thunderous frown. Without previous notice, the ranger grabbed Pippin and turned him upside down. Merry was almost rolling on the floor laughing at his cousin expression, and the other hobbits were right there with him. Boromir and Gimli returned just in time to witness this, and chuckled at the scene, bringing with them two rabbits to feed them.

With the mood considerably lighter, they all set to make dinner.

All, that was, except for the quiet Elf in the tree whose blue eyes seemed black in the night. Silver tears slowly ran down the beautiful face, twisted in grief and guilt.

"Fly, you fools", he sobbed quietly to himself, not even hearing the joyous laughter ringing beneath him.


	2. The Mask of Royalty

**Author notes:** Oh my! I was so excited to have gotten reviews at all. Thank you, to all the very nice people who wrote me a line. And to answer Jan, I changed that line on the English translation, and I would change it in elvish if I knew how to change the verb correctly G. So, anyway, thank you for reading. This chapter might be a bit weird, but don't give up on me yet.

My previous lines remain the same: English is my second language so I apologize for grammar or spelling mistakes, the elvish is how I believe it to be (most likely mistaken) and PLEASE R&R! I love to think that someone read my story :)

The song is from Tolkien, not mine. Thoughts are between //

Master in Deceiving  
By Yours Truly

They had crossed the Nimrodel River on this day, and the exhaustion they felt had been washed away with its pure water. They emerged from the other side much more refreshed, yet the flow of the river had done nothing for their grief. It was so, that just as the night before, Legolas had climbed a nearby tree, unnoticed, and let the group eat without him. Just one tear had been shed on this night on behalf of his guilt; yet Legolas, if anything, felt worse than the night before.

After the fellowship had their dinner, the Elf slowly descended from his place in the tree, determined not to show his disquiet. Countless years as royalty had showed him one thing, and that was how to hide his feelings from prying eyes. Had his father, Thranduil of Mirkwood, seen him now, he would have been proud.

The fellowship glanced at him when he returned, and Legolas straightened up his posture, tossing out a simple lie about patrolling the perimeter. They believed it, and a companiable silence befell the group as each member let themselves get lost in their own thoughts. Legolas, however, could not find peace of mind, and the sudden stillness was not comfortable to his situation. He longed to tell someone of his thoughts, to explain to them what had transpired in the dark pits of Moria; however much he tried, he could not quench his need to talk. Nevertheless, he knew all too well that there was nobody willing to listen to the confessions of a fellon.

Ashamed, Legolas had even accepted since their last conversation, that he was no longer worthy of asking Aragorn for guidance. His friend. He _had_ been his friend, at least, but now the Elf was sure Aragorn despised him. Left with no one to come to, Legolas remained quiet for endless minutes, his insides twisting into knots with tension.

He desperately needed a distraction.

So he chose, at last, to sit with his travelling companions, breaking the silence by telling stories of Lothlórien. The lore of his people was rich and Legolas was well-educated in its tales, making it easy for the prince to distract everyone from dark thoughts. Everyone, that was, except himself.

Then Frodo had seemed to hear the beautiful voice of the river, and Legolas was quick to grab onto the tale, deciding on a whim to sing the story to them. Outside, he seemed to have regained his cheerful self, and it was easy for most of them to forget the events of the day before as if they had been unreal. Surely, Legolas was well, for outwardly he was smiling as he let his voice lull his companions' troubled minds. Inside, the Elf felt nothing like the happy façade that had slid onto his face.

His father would be so proud…

_An Elven-maid there was of old,  
a shining star by day:  
Her mantle white was hemmed with gold,  
Her shoes of silver-grey._

_A star was bound upon her brows;  
a loght was on her hair  
as sun upon the golden boughs  
In Lórien the fair._

The sweet elven voice sang with confidence, and the whole nature around them seemed to get closer and listen. The trees' leaves stopped their rustling movements, while the river appeared to have slowed its rhythm to let the voice be heard.

_Her hair was long, her limbs were white,  
and fair she was and free;  
and in the wind she went as light  
as leaf of linden-tree._

_Beside the falls of Nimrodel,  
by water clear and cool,  
Her voice as falling silver fell  
into the shining pool._

The hobbits' eyes had turned dreamy, for the sweet voice painted the story with such candence they could almost see the face of the woman Legolas sang of. Even Gimli had stopped his mocking muttering of "damned elf and his songs" when the fair one raised his voice a tone with the next lines.

_Where now she wanders none can tell,  
in sunlight or in shade,  
for lost of yore was Nimrodel  
and in the mountains strayed._

Neither Boromir, nor Aragorn, not any other noted the mask set upon the beautiful face, and none seemed to remember what they had been so worried about just the day before, as the song lightly continued.

_The elven-ship in haven grey  
beneath the mountain-lee  
Awaited her for many a day  
beside the roaring sea._

_A wind by night in Northern lands  
Arose, and loud it cried,  
and drove the ship from elven-strands  
across the streaming tide._

Legolas himself barely realized the words he sang. His eyes were closed, and to anyone it seemed as if he was merely visualizing the song of his people. What he was truly visualizing, however, was extremely different.

**----**  
"You cannot pass!" Gandalf cried with all the power of the ancient Istari in his voice. "I am a servant of the Secret Flame, wielder of the flame of Anor! The dark fire will not avail you, flame of Undun! Go back to the shadow!"**  
---- **

_When dawn came dim the land was lost,  
the mountains sinking grey  
beyond the heaving waves that tossed  
their plumes of blinding spray._

_Amroth beheld the fading shore  
now low beyond the swell,  
and cursed the faithless ship that bore  
him far from Nimrodel._

** ----  
**"YOU SHALL NOT PASS!" Gandalf screamed, plunging his staff into the rock beneath him. With a tremble, the earth gave away and the Balrog fell into the darkness below. Breathing heavily, Gandalf turned back to them. It was over. Legolas let his breath out at long last, carefully looking at his friend's drawn face as he made to return towards the fellowship. But Gandalf had looked away too soon. One fiery tongue of the demon's whip trailed up out of the abyss and took a hold of Mithrandir, suddenly and violently pulling him towards the depths. Gandalf snatched desperately for the rock, clinging to the edge for precious seconds in which Legolas did nothing. Nothing. With white fingers, Gandalf cried, "Fly, you fools!" and was all too rapidly gone.

Legolas had been there, watching, frozen on his spot. Unable to do anything as Mithrandir fell.  
**----**

There was not a single sign of grief in the mask the Prince of Mirkwood wore for his friends. All they saw was the deep concentration on his face, as if he had some trouble remembering all the words to his song.

_Of old he was an Elven-king,  
A lord of tree and glen,  
when golden were the boughs in spring  
in fair Lothlórien._

_From helm to sea they saw him leap,  
as arrow from the string,  
and dive into water deep,  
as mew upon the wing._

//Dive into the water, that is one thing. A willing sacrifice. Being dragged into the fire, murdered by that vile creature…that is another thing all-together, is it not? Moria wanted the _prince_, not the wizard. Yet the prince was a coward and Moria took the brave one, the wise one. Moria took the important one.//

_The wind was in his flowing hair,  
the foam about him shone;  
afar they saw him strong and fair  
go riding like a swan._

_But from the West has come no word,  
and on the Hither Shore  
No tidings Elven-folk have heard  
Of Amroth evermore._

Finally his voice faltered. Images of his fallen friend became too overwhelming, and still his voice was the only sign he gave of his turmoil. The mask, learned through the years, was still firmly in place.

"I cannot sing anymore," he announced, his tone once again normal. "That is but part, for I have forgotten much. It is long and sad, for it tells how sorrow came upon Lothlórien, Lórien of the Blossom, when the Dwarves awakened evil in the mountains."

//They'll believe that.// Legolas thought desperately.

And they believed.


	3. When Will the Prince Fall?

**Author notes:** Thank you to everyone who has reviewed! You have no idea how happy you make me :) Elvish is how I believe it to be (most likely mistaken!) and thoughts are between //s

Disclaimer and other notes on previous chapters.

Master in Deceiving  
By Yours Truly

He sat with fellow elves in the woods of Lothlórien, but he was alone. Haldir was currently speaking with his brothers, Rúmil and Orophin, about some worrisome signs he had seen around their forest. Legolas did not pay close attention to the dialogue; he tried but failed at concentrating on listening to anything other than his own mind.

//You know what you did,// his own voice taunted him cruelly. //You were such a coward. A disgrace. Was Mithrandir not your friend?//

Legolas closed his eyes and attempted to distract himself by picturing the forests of his own home, the beautiful Mirkwood, trying to compare their unique magic to these woods of ethereal beauty. But only painful images of Moria came to mind, caves and dwellings in the shadows. With a sigh, he then attempted to hear the song of a nearby bird, but echoes of his thoughts were all he could hear.

//Coward. You knew there was something more evil in Moria, and it was after you. You let Mithrandir fall in your place to the abyss. You let another pay your due. What a prince you make…//

Haldir paused in his conversation when his eyes accidently fell on Legolas' still form. The prince was pale, and his eyes were closed tightly. The shivering of his frame would be normal in a mortal, but he was an Ef and they did not feel the cold. Immediately concerned, the guarden of Lothlórien raised a hand to pause his brothers' conversation.

_"__Cunn Legolas?_" Haldir called softly, drawing his brothers' attention to the silent prince. "_Cardh baur an hoda?"_ (Prince Legolas? Do you need to rest?)

//You were so terrified when the Balrog came, for you knew it was there for you. It was the evil that called, the ancient being that loathed your race. Yet you ran. You ran and allowed Mithrandir to sacrifice himself.//

_"__Cunn Legolas?_" Haldir's voice rose a notch, yet there was still no response from the stoic elf in front of him. (Prince Legolas?)

//_Mithrandir dant an le, a le na-erui tir_... (Mithrandir fell for you, and you only watched)//

With a worried frown, Haldir stood up from his seated position and walked towards him, as noisily as he could, so he wouldn't startle Legolas. But nothing seemed to provoke a reaction. The Lórien elf was about to shake him by the shoulders when his brother, Orophin, stopped him. "_Ma ae e îdh?_" (What if he sleeps?)

Haldir looked back to the prince and shook his head in the negative. "_Eand gael…a tîn hin tafnen_." He murmured, sitting in front of the Prince and trying to be noticed. (He's too pale…and his eyes are closed)

There was still no response.

//Peniuith cunneg! Le deluna i govanna! (Useless little prince! You are dangerous to the fellowship!)// Legolas didn't know his own voice could sound so cruel and taunting. He did not understand how his self-recrimination could sound so harsh. So...dark. When strong hands suddenly grabbed him by the shoulders, he jumped slightly in surprise and wondered, for a moment, what had happened. Even that, it soon became apparent, was not enough to wake him from his self-induced trance-like state.

_'"Cunn Legolas!'_" Haldir shouted, in Legolas' face, but the prince's eyes remained closed._"Legolas! ma trastale behen?!'" _Haldir shook the younger elf in his grasp despite his brothers' alarm at his rashness. He did not stop until he saw Legolas' mouth open in a small gasp. Haldir drew back then, wary of the Prince's reaction. (Prince Legolas! Legolas! What troubles you like this?!)

_"__Mithrandir garont dannen._" (Mithrandir has fallen) Legolas' saddened voice said softly, startling the three brothers with its seeming serenity.

"Legolas…?"

"_IR CAN CUNN THEL DANT?!'_"(When will the prince fall?!) Legolas' agonized cry broke free, choking on the phrase he had been repeating in his head since the second he heard that familiar voice cry out for them to run. To save themselves. The prince's eyes snapped open and Haldir saw liquid pools of blue staring back at him. But those grief filled eyes were still slightly unfocused, as if trapped amongst the memories that haunted Legolas.

"_Le pul can, ae ha tuly_." Haldir whispered gently, trying to find a way to ease the burden the younger Elf carried. (You can cry, if it helps.)

_"__Im pulal_" Legolas murmured dully, brushing off Haldir's suggestion. His countenance seemed suddenly stony: inexpressive voice, inexpressive face, yet his eyes seemed to tell the whole of the truth._"Im pulal tirio be hên_" (I cannot. I cannot look as a child)

"_Caral al tirio be hên._" Haldir countered heatedly, resting a hand on Legolas' shoulder._"Tirio cuin"_ (Do not look as a child. Look alive)

//Fly, you fools//

A crack in the mask.

//Look alive. _Mithrandir_ is not alive, is he?//

Legolas' face cringed.

//I'm sorry, father.//

Before the prince could control it, his first tear of this night was then shed in front of three other elves. Haldir's brothers stood in silence, bent on going outside to patrol the area and give the prince and their brother some moments in private. Elves were proud creatures. They knew that Legolas would hate to know the release of his pent-up emotions had had an audience.

After a moment, and before Haldir's eyes, the mask Legolas' wore shattered. A muffled sob came from the younger elf then, like an admission. "_Mithrandir fern._" Legolas managed to say, before his voice failed him and his tears fell faster. (Mithrandir is dead)

Haldir rubbed gentle circles on his forearm, whispering softly _"Ha thiai be caeda"_ (It seems like a lie). Legolas merely nodded, before he lifted his knees and hugged them to himself, rocking back and forth, trying vainly to calm himself. In his mind, however, he had killed his friend. He had killed Mithrandir. Another sob was torn from his throat as he closed his eyes against the tears that flooded them.

Minutes dragged by, as slowly the sobs subsided. Legolas sighed, opening his eyes to thanks Haldir for his support, but the words never left his lips. Unexpectedly, everything seemed to go black for an instant as he moved his head. As if from a distance, Legolas felt himself swaying…falling…but he never hit the ground.

Haldir shook his head in mourning, as he held the prince in his arms. He needed to get him with Galadriel soon; the young Elf was visibly sinking in grief. He sighed and looked down at the Elf he held, noticing with some relief the tears had finally stopped. He seemed to rest, though whether in sleep or unconsciousness, Haldir was uncertain. The unnatural shivering of his frame, at least, appeared to have passed. Haldir easily lifted Legolas' into his arms and placed him on some blankets, far removed from the entrance to the talan. "_Losta eithel_" (Sleep well) he whispered gently, before going outside with his brothers. Lothlórien's wood was restless on this night.

Frodo, sleeping on a talan of his own next to a snoring Sam and the huddled forms Merry and Pippin, awoke late in the night. The Elves that had been near were gone. The sickle Moon was gleaming dimly among the leaves. The wind was still. A little way off he heard a harsh laugh and the tread of many feet on the ground below. There was a ring of metal. The sounds died slowly away, and seemed to go southward, on into the wood. Frodo sat immovile for long seconds, but was soon startled when an elf clad in grey- one of Haldir's brothers- appeared suddenly on the platform he was on and looked around, as if counting the halflings.

"What is it?" said Frodo.

"Yrch!" said the Elf in a hissing whisper, and cast on to the flet the rope-ladder rolled up.

"Orcs!" said Frodo. "What are they doing?"

But the Elf had gone.

After that, there were no more sounds. Even the leaves were silent, and the very falls seemed to be hushed. Frodo sat and shivered in his wraps, grateful the company had not be caught by surprise by the enemy on the ground below. Moments passed in the soundless stillness, but too soon Frodo was almost certain that he could hear stealthy movements at the tree's foot far below. Not Elves, for their step was soundless. Heart in his throat, Frodo peered down, and at first saw nothing. Then he heard faintly a sound like sniffing: and something seemed to be scrabbling on the bark of the tree-trunk. He stared down into the dark, holding his breath. Something was now climbing slowly, and its breath came like a soft hissing through closed teeth. Then coming up, close to the stem, Frodo saw two pale eyes. They stopped and gazed upward unwinking.

Frodo stared back, knowing what it was. His short sword clutched in his fist glowed blue. Then the shadowy figure slipped round the trunk of the tree and vanished, breaking the stand-off abruptly. Frodo sighed, breathing deeply to calm his nerves.

Immediately afterwards Haldir came climbing swiftly up through the branches. "There was something in this tree that I have never seen before," he said. Frodo nodded and let him continue, not interrupting to mention the creature the Elves had scared off was one the Fellowship had encountered before. Gollum was here, and it had been a brave, if not very smart move, to get so close to them on this night.

After the brief talk with the ring bearer, Haldir descended from the hobbit's talan and moved swiftly through his forest, reaching the platform that served as his and his brothers' post in no time. Orophin was absent, for as he had told Frodo, his brother had gone to warn the people of Lórien of the danger of the Orcs. His other brother Rúmil, however, was there to welcome him as Haldir had asked of him.

"E îdh?" (He sleeps?) He asked worriedly, and Rúmil nodded with a small smile. Haldir stepped gracefully onto the tree to see for himself and was relieved to see Legolas still out cold, unperturbed even by the amount of noise that had just come this way. "_Galadriel bauran cene_." (Galadriel must see him.)

No explanations were needed amongst the brothers. The prince's eyes had told the whole of the story.

The following morning, as the fellowship set on their way to see the Lady of the Woods, Legolas' mask was back in place.

//You're weak// his voice whispered in his mind as he avoided Haldir's and his brothers eyes.

The fellowship didn't notice. But Galadriel saw.


	4. Blind to Eyes of Understanding

**Disclaimer:** Trust me, J.R.R Tolkien is the genius. I'm more of a groupie. Lines from the book are intermingled with the story, but I claim no profit nor ownership.

**Author notes:** As always I want to thank my reviewers who always make my day happier. Now for the basics: English is my second language so I apologize for any spelling or grammar mistakes. The elvish is the way I believe it to be and most likely mistaken. The language I've been using so far has been Sindarin, but in this chapter Galadriel speaks in Quenya with Legolas.

Master in Deceiving  
By Yours Truly

The hall into which one by one the fellowship arrived to was a talan of such large dimensions it could have been a hall of men upon the ground. Surrounded by soft lights and golden hues sat many elves, but it was two in particular, sitting side by side beneath the bole of the tree and canopied by a living bough, that were the focus of attention. Celeborn and Galadriel. Elven lords of Old, they were a regal vision; very tall they were and they were grave and beautiful. Wholly clad in white, they both stood to meet their guests, the hair of Galadriel a rich gold in contrast to the Lord's long silver locks. Youthful were their faces, until you met the wise eyes that studied the travellers; eyes that had seen millenia pass them by.

Haldir led Frodo before them, and the Lord welcomed him in his own tongue. The Lady Galadriel said no word but looked long upon his face. Celeborn in turn welcomed Aragorn, and Legolas, and Gimli, and the rest of the fellowship with words of peace and friendship. However cordual the welcome, it so happened that none in the company of eight travellers felt worthy of such treatmeant amongst these Lords of the realm. 

//I don't even deserve to stand with the fellowship. How dare I stand here? What will they see in me?// Legolas' thought raced uncontrollably as his features remained serene and his stance content. The Elves around them gave him glances and courteous nods which he returned, duties of royalty much simpler than those of the fellowship he no longer felt part to.

"Here there are eight," Celeborn said when greetings had been exchanged, and the words cut through Legolas thoughts like a blade. His heart fluttered in his chest as he thought of Gandalf, and he could barely hear the words pronounced next. "Nine were to set out: so said the messages. But maybe there has been some change of counsel that we have not heard..."

//They know what you did; they must know what you did.// Legolas' thoughts whispered like mantra, and the prince almost let his eyes fall shut as if to block them out. Tales he'd heard in Rivendell and Mirkwood of the power of Galadriel left little doubt in him that his deeds were known. //I'll be disgraced//

When the Lady's eyes came to rest upon him, Legolas put all his focus onto the words of the Lord, managing to even block his thoughts through sheer determination. He stood tall and serious, a mere child in these Lords' presence, yet pretending quite astoundingly that he was serene and unaware of Galadriel's searching gaze.

//Mithrandir fell// He let himself think, words bleeding with the sorrow that Legolas could not supress. //Our dear Mithrandir has fallen, earlier in our quest.//

It seemed enough, succinct an insight as it was, and the Lady's gaze moved away from Legolas, allowing him to breathe freely once again. He tried, yet failed, to supress the thoughts that then arose, unbidden.

//Mithrandir fell, you say? Why, of course he did, little prince. He fell into darkness and death, shadow and pain. He fell into the depthless abyss because you were afraid to stand and fight your way through Moria. You were afraid of dark passagges and ancient hatreds. You feared the Balrog, and Mithrandir did not. And now, now here you stand, afraid even of the consequences of cowardly choices. Mithrandir is dead and you fret over what the Lord and the Lady will say, proud warrior of the Wood Elves.//

"Nay, there was no change of counsel," said the Lady Galadriel speaking for the first time. Her voice was clear and musical, but deeper than woman's wont. "Gandalf the Grey set out with the Company, but he did not pass the borders of this land. Now tell us where he is; for I much desired to speak with him again."

//Tell her// Legolas thought, feeling his heart clench in his chest. //I must tell her//

"…the ways of his feet and of his mind are hidden from me." Galadriel finished, her eyes back on the Mirkwood prince. She inquired to him, directly, but Legolas looked to his friends and not at her knowing eyes, shame clouding his mind.

//Tell her, you coward. It remains your duty to inform her of what you have done//

Legolas opened his mouth, at long last, yet the voice that offered the words was not his.

"'Alas!" said Aragorn. "Gandalf the Grey fell into shadow. He remained in Moria and did not escape."

Grey eyes met his among the dismayed cries the news provoked from the assembled Elves yet Legolas was fast to look away from Aragorn's gaze. He did not wish to see the disgust there, the anger his former friend must have harboured for him. Thus, he missed seeing and recognizing the fleeting look of gentle worry the mortal rested upon him.

//Do you plan on holding your silence once more? Repeat what happened in Moria, perhaps? Too cowardly to tell the Lady of your foul actions. You do nothing, Legolas, but prove yourself unworthy of your title, of your race. Unworthy even to live in such dark times.//

It was then that Legolas heard Celeborn's voice rise above the others, questioning Haldir in the Elven tongue how come such dire news had not been previously given to the Lords of the realm. Invaded by memories of the night before, Legolas broke his quietness to defend the one that had not betrayed his confidence.

"We have not spoken to Haldir of our deeds or our purpose," said Legolas firmly, struggling to sound respecful through the fear haunting his thoughts. "At first we were weary and danger was too close behind and afterwards we almost forgot our grief for a time, as we walked in gladness on the fair paths of Lórien."

Haldir turned his eyes to the prince, calm acceptance in the look, which Legolas met for an instant and acknowledged faintly before turning away. Lost in his thoughts, the Elven prince barely heard as Frodo told the Lords that grief was still upon them and Aragorn began telling the whole story.

//Aragorn tells the tale everyone believes to be the whole one,// His voice hissed in his thoughts and Legolas clenched one of his fists before realizing what he did. //Are you not going to intervene? Should you not step up to claim your fault on Gandalf's demise?//

He sighed softly to himself, thinking of the way to phrase the happenings in Moria, but there were no words to explain the call of darkness Legolas had heard while there. Looking into the weary faces of his companions, Legolas found he could not find it in himself to give voice to the folly that would forever mark him as the enemy in their esteem.

"It was a Balrog of Morgoth," the prince heard his voice explain, and only then did he notice he had been paying some attention to the dialogue around him. He proceeded to mention meaningless details about about it being the most deathly elf-bane, but he was not sure of what words left his lips. His thoughts were scattered once again and Legolas felt tired- exhausted - as he tried to make sense of it all.

More words were spoken but he heard none of them. Images and scrambled thoughts washed over him suddenly like a wave, as if someone had triggered them. The council of Elrond flased before his eyes, and Legolas could hear his own voice pledging his bow to the quest. He could see his father in Mirkwood, then glimses of the faces of every single one of the fellowship. The most vivid out of them was the face that now haunted his every moment.

//Gandalf. Mithrandir. The one you murdered//

Soon Legolas came to realize that Galadriel was looking into each face, studying each of his companions in turn. He remembered the tales of this Lady, the warnings his father had once voiced when it came to her power. He stood tall then, meeting her eyes when they fell upon his and braced himself for what he knew was about to come.

((_Asta Legolas, car lya mer estë?_)) Galadriel's voice asked softly, her tone deceptively mild. (Brave Legolas, do you wish to rest?)

((_Nay, Ñaltariel vanimalda_)) (Nay, beautiful Galadriel) He answered concicely, inclining his head in respect. He was surprised, in some distant corner of his thoughts with how easy it was to communicate with her in this manner, but the thought was discarded when her voice returned.

((_Car lya mer guineth?_)) She called then, and even if the question struck him deeply, Legolas did not hesitate to answer. It was time to face the consequences. (Do you wish to live?)

((_Nay, Ñaltariel vanimalda_)) He admitted with less confidence than before. He did not dare look away from her gaze.

Galadriel paused in her line of questioning, giving him a small smile that eased his heart some, for the intensity of her eyes lessened slightly. ((_Yallumë, i thenin_)) (Finally, the truth)

((_Ring quetta. Heri quet llo cait))_ (Cold words. The Lady speaks of lies) Legolas thought, unable to supress the rise of his defenses. He felt his shoulders tense, but he didn't shift his stance. His face remained impassive and serene to any who would study it on a surface level.

((_Ion a Thranduil, lya auta au i thenin. Aica vanda lya car))_ (Son of Thranduil, you run from the truth. Terrible is the promise you made) Galadriel's voice was gentle, and Legolas couldn't hear in it any sort of reprimand. She was soothing him, trying to help him. He couldn't understand how it could be. How could he not hear her displeasure with his deeds? Did she not know of Moria? Could she not read him?

((_Alquen Heri, lya ista man n care?_)) (Noble Lady, do you know what I did?) He dared to ask after a pause, noting her probe on his mind seemed to increase for a few seconds, as if she searched for something further she had yet to see. Legolas wondered if she truly had not seen it thus far.

((_Tancave))_ She answered levelly, and the shame that washed over the younger Elf was almost enough to make him falter and look away. He did not, in the end, feeling her link with him as if it were physical comfort. (_(Li an ilyë. An Mithrandir_)) She added softly, confident in her Vision. (Yes. Much for everyone. For Mithrandir)

She didn't understand. Frustrated, Legolas braced himself, bringing to the forth of his thoughts the weight of his guilt. The tangled images of Moria's darkness and its call. He forcibly remembered Gandal's fall, his own paralysis. He let the truth shine from his mind, trying to read the hatred he was sure would rise upon her eyes. But there was none to be read. Her link to him remained strong. It almost seemed as if she were pushing the images away, as if she discarded his thoughts as he stared at her and tried to come up with the words to explain.

((_Tancave_)) He conceeded at last, a bitter edge in the word. ((_N auta yello llo i anon ar col ana nya melda dil Istar)) (Y_es. I ignored the call of the Great Door of Moria and it took my dear friend Istari)

Galadriel seemed unperturbed by the words, as if it were news she'd heard long ago. Legolas didn't understand her reaction. surely, his guilt was plain in her wise perspective. Surely she was free to judge his actions. Why comfort him if she truly knew?

((I wish to show you something, Prince Legolas)) Galadriel entoned with finality after another pause of contemplation. Her voice was harder upon the words, almost severe. Perhaps she had, after all, seen it all. ((I shall find you later))

Legolas felt a cold feeling in his breast, like something being taken away, and then the link was severed. He was once again left alone with his thoughts.

//She doesn't understand.// He thought despairingly, feeling bereft //When she does, she will despise you. She will ban you from the quest, send you back to face your father with the true weight of your failures. You have disgraced your family, and you have murdered your friend…//

Legolas never noticed Aragorn's gaze rest on him and did not see understanding that shone from it.

----

_+ **Ñaltariel**: Galadriel's true name in Quenya. She has names in Telerin, Sindarin, and Quenya. Being her must be almost as confusing as being Aragorn.  
+ **thenin**: Is truth in sindar. I couldn't find the Quenya word for it. _


	5. Broken Body, Breaking Mind

**Disclaimer:** They're a bunch of lies with characters that could never be mine. So I'm not Tolkien.

**Author Notes:** I can't believe I've gotten so many reviews with this thing. Seriously guys, thank you. You have no idea what your kind words mean to me. Again, English is my second language so I apologize for spelling or grammar mistakes. Elvish is how I think it goes, and probably mistaken . Galadriel speaks in Quenya again, just a line.

Master in Deceiving  
By Yours Truly

After a few hours of a nightmare-plagued sleep, Legolas let his eyes gain focus to stare at the company spread out in blankets across from him. Beneath the trees of Lothlórien, Legolas saw them all rest peacefully at long last, not needing to set shifts to guard their rest for the first time since Rinvendell. He sat up and stretched, uncomfortable with the tension that would not leave his frame. Frodo twitched next to him when Legolas arose, and Boromir's sleep seemed strangely troubled, but none of them woke. He carefully stepped around the sleeping bodies in his path, deciding to explore the woods of Lórien while the chance was still upon him. The beautiful trees around him beckoned, as if sensing the presence of a Wood Elf among them, and their song did more to soothe his mind than any other thing Legolas had so far encountered. Walking aimlessly, he sighed, sorrow welling up into his heart as his thoughts strayed. Soon, he would leave these woods behind. Not only them, but he would forfeit the quest. His purpose, his friends...

//I should not return to Mirkwood after this ends.// He mused darkly, mood somber despite the voice of the forest //My father shall never again wish to see my face. He trusted me to represent our realm. I cannot come back and play the part of a prince as if nothing ever happened after such a failure. He will not have me back.// The thoughts rang true within him, but knowing he was correct did not soothe the pain of such a realization. Bitter sorrow made him stop his wandering, opting instead to climb the nearest tree to sit on its highest branch. The _mallorn_ sheltered him and Legolas patted its bark, resting his back against the trunk to think.

//Where then can I go?// He wondered, trying to think of a suitable place to live. He did not wish to leave Middle-Earth as many of his kin were wont to do. He was young still, in the eyes of his people. In different years, he would have been considered a child among the Fair Ones, but the time of the Elves faded and too few of them were left on these shores for such a thing to matter. He was old enough to be independant, too young still to sail away. //Rivendell, perhaps? But surely Lord Elrond would see my failure in an even starker light than father will. Elrond has chosen me to represent our _race_. //

//You can always go to Moria// He found his own thoughts taunting, and he closed his eyes against the images of such an abode //the place of darkness. You belong there now. A monster in your kin's eyes. A murderer. A coward.//

_"YOU SHALL NOT PASS!" _Gandalf's voice in his thoughts was as if imbedded there, an endless reminder. Strong, it sounded, clear as it had echoed that day; as strong it would never sound again. "_I am a servant of the Secret Flame, wielder of the flame of Anor_..."

//Not anymore. He's ashes and dust, decaying flesh of mortality. All that he is, thanks to your cowardice, is dead.// An elven voice had never sounded so cruel, of that Legolas was certain. His thoughts turned against him, it seemed, as if his guilt had taken on a tangible manifestation. But his guilt spoke no lies. He did not even deserve to be an Elf after what he did.

_"Fly, you fools!"_

//And that is what I did is it not? Did I not run away after he had been dragged down after doing nothing to help?// The bitter thoughts had not abbandoned him since that day. He had stood there, helpless as a child. He had not even tried to change things. Could he have not severed the Balrog's hold on Gandalf//Return to Moria would not be about penance. it would be about restoring the order of things. Give the great gate what it wanted. It wanted you. _"Anno i cunn_!" it called.//

Give the prince, indeed.

//Do something right// his voice urged him on, and Legolas opened his eyes to stare at his hands, lying limp upon his lap. The reasoning within the argument was not without fail, but was it not as should have been? Could the evil of Moria be mollified//You are of no further value alive. Scorned by your kin, rejected by your friends and family, what is there left? You are weak. Haldir has seen it first hand, you may ask him or his brothers. You will find no slace in these woods.//

Legolas let himself dwell upon it, and did not see why he should not. The idea of dying, of throwing himself into such darkness as what hid in Moria did not appeal. He was afraid, as weak as his thoughts indicated. But it was a sacrifice he owed a friend he had let down. He nodded to himself, feeling determined for the first time since that day. He would leave on the morrow and Moria would be his final resting place, before Thranduil was faced with the disgrace of his son. If the Balrog did not come for him, then the abyss- Gandalf's tomb- would become his own.

With that thought, Legolas found his breath catching in his throat as something that hadn't ocurred to him before rose up like an image he could not erase, a vision of a fate he'd wish on no living creature.

_It was there. Gandalf's shattered body lying in the bottom of an endless abyss, blood spattered in patterns around awkwardly twisted limbs. Broken bones causing unbereable pain upon an old body, breathing sharp and fading as ribs protuded horribly from a sunken-in chest. Lying there, surrounded by complete, suffocatting darkness with not a sign of hope, not even a star in the stifling pit he laid in. Lying there, dying in slow drips of timeless agony, but living still for hours, for days afterwards. Living still and suffering the slow decay of the flesh as death crept in on too slow feet.  
_

_"Legolas!" The Wizard's voice called brokenly, sounding so real, so terribly real…_

"Legolas Greenleaf! Where are you now?"

And Legolas felt his heart give a lurch for the voice _was _real, calling from him from beneath the branches of his tree. He felt his façade crumble, face showing his distress as he heard the steps approaching. He could not shake the image of Gandalf's face from his mind, pale, bloodied lips calling for him. It was too real.

//You can't handle it. It is you who is weak//

"Legolas!" Mithrandir's gaze was dull and deadened, cold fingers twisted in grotesque shapes as they lifted trembling from the darkness of Moria's abyss. There was accusation there, in the agonized eyes of a friend Legolas had done nothing to save. "Legolas!" Blood blubbed up from Mithrandir's disfigured mouth, a grimace of hatred twisting the almost unrecognizable features as he called for him.

Panic hit so suddenly, he could not repress it. Bolting to his feet on the tree branch he was on, Legolas climbed down faster than any mortal could have seen, hands a blur of motion as he gripped the branches on his way. Cuts lines his face but he did not feel them, hearing as if from a far the saddened voice of the _mallorn_ he stood on. His breathing hitched and sped up, blind eyes not seeing where he went as he sought to reach the ground and _run_, don't let Mithrandir find him, don't let him near-

He could _see_ Gandalf there, waiting, bloodied form bathed in darkness. His face was a horrifying vision, all the more for the familiarity still discernable on its decay, furious eyes demanding retribution, demanding Legolas' very life through torn lips. And the image was crawling at first, broken limbs dragging behind him at odd angles, but then it was standing, standing in a knot of bone and flesh and Legolas could feel a scream rising in his throat for it was coming closer. It was _coming for him._

"Legolas!" The voice was louder, closer; he could hear the steps getting closer, _closer_…he was almost _there_ and Legolas could not get away fast enough, could not even climb down before it-

With a startled cry, Legolas missed the next branch his feet was aiming for. He felt the tumble then and with sickening clarity, Legolas felt his body loose its balance, tumbling backwards in a weightless moment that lasted an eternity. He was falling. In slow motion, he was tumbling down and distantly he realized he was still too high up in the tree. Too far from the ground, and the fall would be over in seconds. Falling endlessly, but he would hit the ground and it would never be far enough. Never like Gandalf.

"Ai!" He felt the scream ripped from his throat, shock and fear he could not control tumbling from his lips as the twisted image of Gandalf on his mind seemed to smile.

//You deserve this// He felt his body hit a branch, a dull agony as he felt the ground rushing up behind him, fleetingly giving him a moment to hope it'd be enough to snap his neck in half but not a moment to try to grab onto something.

"By Elbereth! Legolas!"

Legolas started in shock as instead of the hard ground he'd expected, he felt a pair of strong arms- very strong arms- catch him, breaking the full impact of his fall.

//_No…_//

He landed in something- rather someone- hard, the air stolen from both of their lungs as the fall took them both- Legolas and 'saviour'- crashing hard into the ground, where leaves from the trees lessened some of the pain. Legolas landed upon his right side, ribs protesting in agony. Even through it, though, the Elf realized numbly that though badly bruised, he had not even shattered a bone.

Whoever had caught him had saved his _life_.

//Damn him//

He stayed on the ground, incredulous, willing his body to hurt more than it did as he came to terms with what had happened. He had almost died. _Almost._ The thought brought with it a painful twist in his chest that had little to do with the fall as he felt the sudden touch of other's hands on him. His _saviour. _He was carefully rolled onto his back, hands exploring him for broken bones or permanent damage and when he re-opened his eyes, Legolas found himselfstaring into Aragorn's distressed face. The Man's mouth moved, but Legolas did not hear the words.

//Perhaps this is my punishment after all. Am I deaf?//

But it was not to be. Slowly, as the minutes dragged by, his heart lost its staccatto rhythm and the shock and fear seemed to abandon him in waves. As if through a fog, his hearing came back bit by bit and before long he could hear his friend's voice, sounding more frantic that he had heard him in years.

"Legolas! Answer me, please _mellon nîn_. Are you alright? Where are you hurt?" Aragorn asked insistingly, patting him for injuries.

//But there are none.// He thought faintly, meeting Aragorn's eyes calmly //There are none where there should be many.//

"Legolas!"

And the thought struck him suddenly, with an edge of hysteria, that earlier it had been Aragorn's voice calling for him. Not Gandalf's. The nightmarish visuals, the voice of Mithrandir- it'd all been in his mind.

"I'm alright, my friend. I must thank you." He murmured at last, reading the relief that flooded Aragorn's grey eyes with detachment. He looked away first and made as if to sit up, but the Man was quick to stop him with a gentle hand upon his aching chest.

"Stay there, Legolas. Lay down. I just need to see if you're not hurt anywhe-"

"I'm not." Legolas cut him off, shaking off the hand with more force than necessary. Reading the hurt in Aragorn's eyes he softened his tone, trying to sound convincing. "Thanks to you, I am not." .

Aragorn frowned but gave the Elf more room to move as Legolas sat up in front of him. He seemed physically all right. But his voice- the Ranger noted- was hardly thankful. He sounded _angry_, and the idea that such a tone brought up in Aragorn was not one he ever wished to associate with a friend. Surely Legolas had not-

"Do you resent that you are not wounded?" He murmured faintly, sure the Elf would hear it. He sought Legolas' eyes, but the prince stubbornly looked away.

"If I did, surely you would know the reason." Legolas answered at length and Aragorn felt the words like a blow in the chest. He must have tensed, for Legolas shifted slightly away and continued as if he'd always meant to add. "But I do not resent the fact."

Thoughts raced for a moment, but Aragorn finally voiced them, placing a tentative hand on Legolas' left shoulder "Legolas. You- You did not jump off that tree, did you? It _was_ an accident."

Anger almost broke through Legolas' calm countenance, but the Elf reigned it in, turning an icy-glare on his friend' dubious eyes. "No, Estel, I did not. I was climbing down when I missed a branch and lost my balance. 'Tis embarassing enough without you making it worse."

Aragorn nodded after a moment, holding Legolas gaze for a stretch of time before nodding, face unreadable. He was not- could not be- certain of the Elf's state of mind. The version sounded unlikely and weak for a Wood Elf and given Legolas' mood since Gandalf's demise, Aragorn could not help but worry. There was, however, a spark of sincerity in those eyes he knew so well, and the Ranger above all, would not dare to mistrust his friend at this point. He could not risk a rift between them now, when Legolas needed friends the most.

"Legolas, I've been looking for you for a while now. You left the company quietly this morning." Aragorn paused then, sat up on the ground and hid the grimace at the pain from the bruises he'd earned in catching Legolas. "We need to talk about what you told me."

"What would that be?" Legolas asked lightly, standing up and shaking off fallen leaves from his clothes. The Elf straightened up, ignoring the pain on his right side, and when no answer was forthcoming met Aragorn's tired gaze with a speck of guilt on his blue gaze.

"You know of what I speak." Aragorn told him simply, standing to face him. Legolas looked away from him not long after, looking up to the trees around them with an air of sadness that was not lost on the ranger's keen eye.

"Yes, I do know. There is nothing more to speak of, Estel. I will be departing the fellowship in the morrow." After a tense silence, in which Aragorn seemed too shocked to speak, he added, "I'll be heading back to Mirkwood."

//Mirkwood? Was is it not Moria, dearest prince? Should your best friend not know of your plans?//  
//No. No, he does not need to know that, he will try to stop me. He has enough on his mind, he- he should not pity my fate.//

"You cannot abandon us now, Legolas!" Aragorn exclaimed when he realized his friend spoke sincerely, shocked the prince would even consider such a course of action. The fellowship could _not_ fail. Too much depended on them, _everything_ depended on them. Aragorn could not allow it to fail, would give his life to prevent it. But without Legolas at his side, without the support of his friend through such a journey, it- nay, _he_ might fail.

"I have done far worse deeds, Aragorn. I _murdered_ one of you. Why would you endanger the rest?" Legolas admitted softly, turning away when Aragorn tried to face him again. The forest around them seemed painfully silent, and Legolas felt an oppression in his breast that, as always, did not reflect on his face. His stoic and detached eyes pierced through Aragorn, even though Legolas would not meet his gaze directly. The Ranger could not take such attitude any longer and he reached a quick hand to raise the Elf's face, forcing the blue orbs to meet his.

"Murder?" He whispered incredulously, discouraged when Legolas nodded firmly. But Aragorn was no fool and no stranger to this Elf. And his emotions, so well hidden in his features, were shining visibly in his gaze. Anger, determination, self-loathing and such _grief_ that Aragorn felt true fear for his dearest friend.

"Legolas, how could you even think such? You did not- _could _not- murder Mithrandir. He fell into shadow. He did it to save us! Surely, my friend, you saw what-"

"He shouldn't have had to save us!" Legolas cut in cleanly, even voice a constrast to Aragorn's incredulity. "Had I done what was right and gave Moria what it was after, he would be alive, Estel. Moria called for _me_."

"Legolas, stop and _think_. Even if you are right, even if the Mines of Moria called for the Elf in our company of nine, tell me, you would have surrendered? Would you have given in without even a fight for your own life? Had it called for me, would you blame me?" Aragorn took a step forward, grabbed Legolas' shoulders tightly as if to ground him. "Legolas, you do not give up. To think of you just dying-"

"-like I was supposed to?" Legolas finished for him, taking a step back from the human's grip. "It was my time, Aragorn. It was my call. I was being summoned and I ignored it because I was afraid. Mithrandir's death is my responsability."

"You were being called by the _darkness_ Legolas; not the Valar, not destiny! It was darkness. Evil. You do not serve darkness. You do not give in to it."

"And Mithrandir did?" Legolas hissed, anger finally showing on his features as Aragorn faltered.

"No, he did not." Another voice interceded, and both males turned to look at the Lady of the Woods. Galadriel stood there, dressed in white and surounded in a golden glow that seemed to follow her. There was no expression upon her face, but both Elf and Man felt a reprimand for their behaviour just by her presence.

"Cundu Legolas, tula." (Prince Legolas, come) Her musical voice ordered after a tense pause. Legolas straightened up, watching as she walked away from them, expecting the younger elf to follow. With a last glance to Aragorn, which clearly asked not to follow, Legolas did. He easily fell into step besides her, walking in silence for long minutes before daring to give voice to his curiosity.

"What would the Lady want with me?" He asked respectfully, walking through a hidden garden Legolas had not known existed. No trees grew there, and it lay open to the sky. Down a long flight of steps the Lady went into a deep green hollow, through which ran murmuring the silver stream that issued from the fountain on the hill.

"The Lady would like to show you, now, what she promised to show you earlier." Galadriel answered with a side-glance to his face. She noticed, as she noticed it all, that Legolas could not hide well the grimace of pain when he walked, but she said nothing. For his part, Legolas nodded and was silent, as he was led through paths of beautiful green.

Finally they stopped their descent and there, where a low pedestal carved like a branching tree stood, Galadriel spoke once more.

"Will you look into the mirror, son of Thranduil?"


	6. One Battle Won and War Approaching

**Disclaimer:** The fact that I didn't wrote Lord of The Rings pretty much makes this a moot point, right?

**Author Notes:** Oh…so many reviews! I am so happy I could dance! I won't though, 'cause that'd be a bit...sad. Thank you all guys! And yes, I will repeat myself. English is my second language so I apologize for any spelling or grammar mistakes.

Master in Deceiving  
By Yours Truly

Ancient eyes bored into his, and silence reigned after that question was spoken. Unsure, Legolas searched Galadriel's face, seeking the answers he could not seem to find. He knew of her mirror, of course. It was a known fact that she had it. That she could see into it. But none ever spoke of what one saw upon its gleaming surface, nor did Galadriel ever share her Visions beyond what necessity dictated. Why offer him such a gift, then? Galadriel said nothing to his hesitation and Legolas saw no answer upon her features. It seemed the Lady of the Wood had a mask of her own.

"Are you willing to look into the mirror, Legolas Thranduilion?" She repeated the question softly, and the younger Elf felt trapped, unworthy to accept, yet unable to refuse such an offer. "You will see what the mirror wishes you to see upon its surface; future, past, present at your disposal. Do you wish to see any of this, Prince of Mirkwood?"

Legolas did not answer for long minutes, standing as if frozen in front of the mirror of Galadriel. He was afraid and was not beyond admitting to it. His mind was burdened with turmoil and guilt; there was little he could wish to see through such a device. The Prince remembered clearly the test Galadriel had subjected the fellowship to upon their arrival, and wondered if this could be another one. Was he to be faced with his demons? Was he to be offered a way out that would expose his shortcomings? Legolas felt he could not risk it, resolute as he was to leave Lórien in silence. He did not want to further disgrace his father. But the words to refuse would not come, and the mirror beckoned him; surrounded it was by the light of the glade they stood in.

//You are unworthy of this.// he thought with defeat, taking a hesitant step back.

"The mirror holds no judgement, son of Thranduil. And if it is my view you question, then you may rest assured of your worth." Galadriel told him, breaking into his thoughts. Legolas was nonplussed at her intervention but the Lady did not acknowledge his surprise. "Seeing is both good and perilous. Here you stand, able and suitable to make the choice. The question remains, are you willing to look?"

Legolas blinked, letting out a breath he had no realized he was holding. Galadriel waited patiently for his decision. The younger eld raised a hesitant hand to touch the stone edge of the mirror, looking deeply into it, as if even empty, it might hold the answers he sought.

//Do not look//

He glanced back at Galadriel, looking into her wise eyes in silence.

//Don't do it//

And nodded.

//Foolish. As always, nothing but a foolish little prince, playing a part. You are not worthy to see. However will you handle what it shows you? Whatever images it conjures up, they are perilous. They will destroy what little strength remains in you.//

//Is that so bad?//

Galadriel inclined her head in acknowledgement, gliding gracefully closer to the nearby stream. With water from the stream Galadriel filled a silver ewer that for that purpose stood. With it, she carried the water to fill the mirror's silver basin to the brim, and breathed on it, and when the water was still again she spoke. "Here is the Mirror of Galadriel," she said. "Feel free to read its will upon its surface."

Legolas nodded once and looked blankly at the mirror before approaching cautiously. With a hesitant step he came to stand next to the basin and giving it no further thought, the younger Elf into it looked, seeing the still waters gleam dark as ebony.

In them, he saw only his reflection.

//The mirror tells no secrets to the lost. Unworthy.//

Suddenly, though, the stillness of the waters was disturbed. As if a dark veil had been withdrawn, the Mirror grew grey, and then clear. Images replaced the blankness, and there Legolas saw himself, walking alone through the darkness night. There was blood upon his clothes and he seemed to stumble as he went forward. Immediately, with a great weight upon his heart, Legolas recognized the place. It was the exit of Moria, the place where the fellowship had grieved, however briefly, the fall of Gandalf. In the Mirror, his image was tracing back the steps they'd taken to leave, walking inside the very cave. Legolas understood without a doubt what he witnessed was the future that awaited him.

Troubled and bewildered, Legolas almost looked away from the revelations unfolding, aware of the Lady's sharp gaze that assuredly saw all. It was the very musical voice of Galadriel, however, the one to stop and urge him on. "Watch, son of Thranduil. The mirror shows many things but never reveals unnecessarily."

Legolas did no answer, but his gaze remained upon the Mirror, though his thoughts were muddled by uncertainty and fear.

//Coward//

The images in the Mirror did not yet change, and Legolas could see himself standing in the mines, looking down the endless chasm where Mithrandir had found his end. His figure in the vision was battered and obviously deeply affected by grief, for he was openly crying. His movements were jerky and awkward, as if injured, and he did not carry his bow or knives in sight. Hysteria shone from his eyes as he stumbled the last few steps forward, standing now at the very edge.

Shadows moved in the background of the mines, as if the thousands of orcs and goblins were gathering around the walls, watching Legolas' plight. Arrows began to rain down around his figure then, but the Elf in the Mirror seemed unaware of anything, seemingly whispering things to himself in aparent madness. Legolas, watching such a thing, felt a cold shiver of fear racve up his spine, terrified that what the Mirror showed would be his future. In the vision, he seemed- gone. Then the figure at the mines leaped forward into the darkness, making the breath catch in Legolas' chest as he watched the derranged smile on his own face as the image of him fell.

// Is that-// But the thought was cut off as the image in the Mirror wavered, then shifted, showing now a haunting scene.

A battlefield. Countless bodies lined the earth and Legolas could see in their garbs that too many of them were human. The remains of the battle were horrific as limbs and blood seemingly invaded every surface. The sky above the scene was dark and stormy, making Legolas suddenly think of Mordor. Images flashed by in quick succession, an army of ghosts evaporing into thin air, the last look of a slain young human with the warrior garbs of Rohan, the Nâzgul sweeping down from the sky, a woman's dead body in the midst of battle. Then the worst of it came, when Legolas recognized some of the Fellowship among the dead. He gasped, moving forward, but Galadriel's held him back and her gentle voice came as an admonishment.

"Do not touch the water!" said the Lady and Legolas stilled, almost looking away as Frodo's body was shown to him. A dark shape loomed among the dead, taking form before his eyes and Legolas was suddenly sure he was seeing the Lord Sauron emerge victorious and the pang of grief he felt almost brought him to his knees. Grey took over the image in the mirror, then black. Thinking it was at last over, Legolas went to move away, but then he was sure he saw a shape through the darkness. A small figure, moving, then two shadows, one large and the small one, fighting each other in uneven combat. And then he saw the smaller shape take human form, before the darkness slowly parted to let it shine through.

Mithrandir -dressed in white -stood there, smiling at him.

The image blurred then, as if the water had been disturbed. Once more, grey, then black took over the pictures in the Mirror; Legolas soon found himself looking at his own reflection on a font with water, like nothing had happened.

Shocked, unbelieving eyes raised themselves slowly from the Mirror to look into the face of Galadriel. The wise features of the Lady seemed to soften for a moment, and a gentle- if cold- hand touched his shoulder in support, giving him a moment to absorb what he had seen. Feeling lost, Legolas opened his mouth and found he could not think of the words to understand what he'd seen.

"What- Lady. Was it- Mithrandir?" was what finally came out of his mouth, but Legolas was too bewildered to feel ashamed for his lack of coherence or his choked voice. Galadriel did not scorn him for his shock, gently leading him away from the Mirror to walk with him back into the forest of Lórien. She did not speak for a few minutes, studying the younger Elf before her with an air of sadness that was not lost on Legolas.

"I know what it was that you saw," she said; "for that is also in my mind. Do not fret, Thranduilion, for the Mirror shows future paths that may never come to be. It also shows hope, when its light has been forgotten. The Mirror does not counsel but it does reveal. The paths you travel in the end are forever of your own making." She paused then and stopped her walk. Numbly, Legolas stopped next to her and found her eyes sought his to read. "The voices of evil will seek to make us fail, for it senses purity and yearns to crush it. It sees, and I see it as well. Your inner light is strong, young one; the shadow has not dimmed it, but has turned it against you. Why do you allow it?"

Then the fair Lady was gone. Legolas stared after her, then shook his head, feeling his thoughts reel in confusion. Dazed, the Elf slowly sat on the ground and stared ahead of himself, seing nothing. Half of Galadriel words did not make sense to him. And yet the other half-

//She doesn't understand.//

//Yes, she does. She is the only one who does. Hope, she said, where it has been forgotten. Paths of our own making. She spoke to me, for she saw into my mind. And the Mirror. The Mirror showed me those paths.//

//She knows nothing of your grief; she knows nothing of the voice that called for you, of the fate you must fulfill. You were meant to die.//

//Galadriel is of the wisest of the Elves. She Sees, like none other does. She reads like none other can. I am an open book to her gaze and her words are not in vain. I must prevail. I must have hope.//

//Are you so willing to run from your call? The call that came in Moria with your name. The call that awoke the Balrog from the depths and sent it after your trail. Are you so willing to forget your guilt?//

//Guilt. Of course there is. But the Balrog was there for millenniums; to think it was there just for me is ludicrous. Surely, something else awoke it. Surely-//

//The Mirror has frightened you, princeling. Shown you your fate drenched in blood. And the fear makes you believe what your heart wishes to be the truth. You would escape your pain by merely telling yourself lies, interpreting words the way you believe convenient to lessen your own guilt. Pathetic. Weak. Cowardly.//

//I…I should not…//

Heavy steps startled him from his thoughts. Legolas realized with a start that they were very close; too close. He should have heard it coming earlier, should have realized-

"Master Elf?" The voice was rough and familiar, but none the less surprising to hear adressed to him in such polite tones. Legolas looked up calmly at the inquiry, as if he had not been startled, right into the face of one Gimli, son of Glóin. The dwarf stopped a few feet away from him, studying him wearily.

"Yes, master Dwarf? What brings you out so deep into the woods?" Legolas answered just as politely, crossing his arms in front of his chest and willing his dark thoughts away. Obviously uncomfortable, the Dwarf shifted his feet, words coming out sounding oddly hesitant

"I was- uhm, exploring and- well, Aragorn said…Agh, by Durin!" The Dwarf exclaimed suddenly, making the surprised Legolas fight back an honest smile for the first time since the mines. "I was looking for you."

Puzzled eyes lifted to stare at the Dwarf's own then, doing nothing to lessen the tense athmosphere between them. Past confrontations made Legolas fear the Dwarf sought him for yet another pointless argument, yet Gimli's disposition seemed different than on any other day.

"You have found me." Legolas stated unnecessarily when the silence stretched on. "What was it that you wished to tell me?"

To the Prince's visible surprise, after a short hesitation, the Dwarf chose to sit down on the ground with him. "The rest of the fellowship has been wondering where you keep running off to-" his gruff voice informed Legolas. "And I will admit to being curious myself."

Legolas nodded, accepting the answer for an honest one. He sat for a moment in silence, then looked on towards the distance, unaware that his attention was suddenly miles away from the conversation. "I go nowhere in particular, master Gimli. " He answered at length. "I just go."

Frowning at the cryptic message, Gimli was clearly not satisfied with his answer. Attempting a different tactic, the Dwarf recalled his recent conversation with Aragorn in the woods, startling Legolas with his next question. "Did you not speak with Lady Galadriel recently?"

"Aye, that I did." Legolas answered lowly, looking at him as if Gimli could know something more. The Dwarf looked back at him blankly, feeling strangely sympathetic to the Elf's obvious grief. Legolas, for his part, struggled to remain stoic, else his face betray his thoughts. He could not forget the images in the Mirror. "And now, nothing more than confusion plays on my mind."

//Nothing more?//

Legolas was startled when Gimli gave voice to the same question in his thoughts, and for a moment, he questioned if he had indeed lost his mind. "What was it you said?" He asked suddenly, startling the Dwarf; Legolas narrowed his eyes at him, and for a long moment Gimli was sure his words had been some sort of insult to the Eld.

"I asked if confusion was indeed all, Elf." Gimli said, surprised at the intense reaction to such an innocent inquiry. "You look distracted and seem to be distancing yourself from the rest of the group"

"Nay." Legolas was quick to deny, looking elsewhere. "'tis nothing but my thoughts."

With a frustrated sigh, Gimli mumbled something and Legolas trained his eyes back on him, strangely insulted. "I am not a 'Crazy Elf', master Dwarf." He stated coldly, even as his mind responded. //Aren't you, now?//

"You certainly seem like one." Gimli easily traded his concern by annoyance, seeming now more like the Dwarf Legolas recognized from their journey together. "You answer nonsense to my questions, go wandering alone and then hear nothing while I talk to you!"

"Oh, I hear." Legolas answered testily, his voice the only outlet for the emotion that did not show on his features. "That does not mean I must care for what your words are, son of Glóin."

"I was merely stating the truth." the Dwarf was quick to counter, now angry himself. Legolas felt a sense of dissapointment he could not understand at the quick descent of the conversation into an argument. "Since Moria you are nothing like the warrior you seemed to be before. If anything, you look-"

//Weak//Coward//Insane//Alone//

"-pained." Gimli finished, unaware of Legolas' turmoil. "But do not worry, crazy elf of Mirkwood; you hide it well. Had I not seen your expression a few minutes ago, I would not know how you felt."

A whisper stopped the dwarf from storming off and leaving the Elf to his own thoughts.

"Nobody knows."

Cold blue eyes locked with his and the Dwarf felt suddenly weak. With a sigh, he read the confusion in those pools of ice, and said what he thought, like was his custom."It seems to me that not even you know."

Silence followed those words, as Legolas looked away.

//How did you know that?// He wondered silently, studying the face of the Dwarf after a moment in silence. //Perceptive.//

And the woods of Lothlórien saw a new friendship begin.

The fellowship remained some days in Lothlórien, so far as they could tell or remember. All the while that they dwelt there the sun shone clear, save for a gentle rain that fell at times, and passed away leaving all things fresh and clean. The air was cool and soft, as if it were early spring, yet they felt about them the deep and thoughtful quiet of winter. It seemed to them that they did little but eat and drink and rest, and walk among the trees; and it was enough. Legolas was away much among the Galadhrim, and after the first night he did not sleep with the other companions, though he returned to eat and talk with them. Often he took Gimli with him when he went abroad in the land, and the others wondered at this change.

After much of the grief and the wariness had abated from their minds, the Company was again summoned to the chamber of Celeborn, and there the Lord and Lady greeted them with fair words. At length Celeborn spoke of their departure. Discussion arose regarding the fellowship's next destination and Legolas kept silent through most of it, still unsure whether or not he should leave the company behind. Their days in Lórien had drawn to an end, and it was obvious that -should he wish to leave- the time was then.

On their last night in Lórien, however, Legolas chose to remain. Gifts were brought to the Company in Celeborn and Galadriel's behalf, cloaks, broaches, _lembas_ and boats, among special gifts granted to each of them in particular. Legolas received his bow and was grateful for the gift, mind feeling somewhat lighter than it had in days before. He and Aragorn had spoken and he and Gimle were now friends. Galadriel gave him one more gentle smile, full of hidden meaning, before the fellowship set out once more.

And as Galadriel bid them farewell, she noticed the shadow still inside one member. It had not been defeated- it lay merely diminished for the time being, waiting for weak spots to thrive in. The whispers of shadow came to her, but she could do nothing to drive them away, for the battle was not hers to fight. As it was, Galadriel Saw and she Heard, but none other knew what she did.


	7. Voice in the Wind

Author Notes: How can so many nice people read my story!! *Blushes* Thank you everyone who has reviewed!! It means a lot to me.  
  
(You'll never guess what's next...) English is my second language so I apologize for any spelling or grammar mistakes made on this story. Elvish is the way I believe it goes, most likely mistaken, so sorry for that as well. The quotes, I'm afraid I took them from the movie, for my book is in Spanish :( Other than that... could you R&R, please? :)  
  
I'm sorry for the delay, but I had to deal with tests and what I think was a small writer's block :) Hopefully, that's all gone now. If you don't like this chapter, blame it on the writer's block!! And don't stop reading, please!  
  
Thoughts are in {}   
  
Master in Deceiving  
By Yours Truly  
  
Silence hung heavy of the company of eight, as the boats traveled slowly, farther and farther away from the golden woods of Lothlórien, the weight of their mission returned to their tired shoulders. Ahead was Legolas' boat, carrying the elf, Gimli and most of the luggage. Then came Strider's with Sam and Frodo on board, and last on the row was Boromir's, accompanied with Merry and Pippin.   
  
Frodo sat in silence staring at the beauty of the scenery, his fingers playing idly with the ring that hung around his neck on a golden chain. The hobbit could see that the fellowship was weary of what laid ahead, for the idea of traveling to Mordor would never sound appealing to anyone but an orc. He sighed softly and looked at the ring he held. He could feel it become slightly heavier, as they moved towards Mordor, but Frodo was certain, that it was his own imagination.   
  
The other thing he felt, however, was not that easy to brush aside: danger was near, too near, and it seemed to go with them. He was fairly certain that his senses were not warning him about Gollum, for Gandalf's words had reassured him on the subject. But that left something worse to consider. Someone in the fellowship could have been corrupted…Frodo shuddered, and he felt Aragorn's eyes on his back.   
  
"Are you all right, Frodo?" the ranger's voice was gentle, but his stare was firm when he turned to face him.  
  
Frodo nodded and gave a small smile of reassurance, before settling back on the boat.  
  
{There's something…}  
  
The hobbit looked at each of his companions, and attempted to imagine any of them betraying the rest.  
  
{A sound in the wind…}  
  
Aragorn, Pippin, Sam, Merry, Gimli, Boromir, and Legolas … he could not see them hurting him...  
  
{Is that a whisper?}  
  
The strange light on Boromir's eyes did not go unnoticed by the hobbit…and yet, he still could not see the human betraying any one.  
  
{You hear it? Is a call…and an answer…}  
  
Frodo turned away from Boromir, to stare back ahead, and saw Legolas' frame stiffen suddenly. Considering if he should say anything or not, he decided to not risk any danger.  
  
"Master elf, are you all right?" his voice called out, and the fellowship looked at the elf, Gimli and Aragorn a little closer than the rest of them.  
  
{No…I'm not. There's something in the air}  
  
After a few moments Legolas nodded to Gimli, sitting ahead of him, and turned back to face the rest of the group. "I am quite all right, young Frodo, why do you ask?" his tone was friendly, and betrayed nothing.  
  
Frodo looked at his face, and saw his expression relaxed, and normal. He shook his head "For no reason, I suppose. I just thought I saw you listening for something? Thought there may be danger"  
  
{There always is…everywhere…}  
  
The elf smiled gently at Frodo. "Do not worry, dear hobbit. If I feel any danger you will be the first to hear of it. But, you are right as well, for I was listening to the song of the trees that surround us"  
  
{How I wish my words were true, for I have not heard the trees in months…it feels as though I have been in a cage for months…}  
  
Frodo smiled back, relieved that the elf could still find it in him to listen to nature. He nodded and glanced at the woods surrounding the company, at the shore of the wide river. "They are beautiful. I believe that Mirkwood is not far, is it?"  
  
{I fear I don't even know that any longer, for that voice is filling my thoughts, and the answer it receives chills my bones…}  
  
Legolas stole a glance around, and sighed to himself. By now, the rest of the group had turned the attention away from the conversation. "Aye, the woods of Mirkwood are close to where we are. Southern Mirkwood. Once so beautiful, those trees are not a safe place anymore"  
  
Frodo had heard the tales from his uncle Bilbo, and nodded his understanding, the brief conversation coming to an end, silence descending once more.  
  
{I must warn Aragorn}  
{Afraid to keep a secret, are you?}  
{Why should I keep this a secret? It would do no good}  
{No, but your secret in Moria did a lot of good for everyone…}  
{I…I will inform Aragorn of this voice…of the danger…}  
{And scare the poor hobbits with your hallucinations?}  
{This is real}  
{What is?}  
{The voice in the air, 'tis real. I can hear it; I know it's real}  
{Do you, really?}  
  
Doubt clouded his mind suddenly, and he looked at Aragorn. The man he still considered his friend, thought enough bad things of him already. Now to make him think he was delusional?  
  
{You are afraid}  
  
And Legolas could not deny it.  
  
****  
  
Lost in thought he never noticed hours pass by in a flash, and soon Aragorn was leading the boats to the shore, for they had reached their destination.  
  
"Here we will rest tonight," said Aragorn. "This is the lawn of Parth Galen: a fair place in the summer days of old. Let us hope that no evil has yet come here…"  
  
Legolas barely heard him, the whisper now almost a shout of victory, as the answer it got was stronger, and he could no longer keep the fear it raised in him hidden inside.  
  
{Weak}  
  
"We should leave now" His elven voice interrupted some silly discussion between Aragorn and the dwarf.  
The human looked at him, before shaking his head "No. Orcs patrol the eastern shore. We must wait for cover of darkness" his voice was normal, and Legolas could not detect any trace of anger or anything else directed at him. But then, you could never hear anything in his own voice, unless he allowed it.  
  
{Will you tell him now? Can you tell him you are delusional?}  
  
The elf sighed. "It is not the eastern shore that worries me. A shadow and a threat has been growing in my mind. Something draws near...I can feel it"  
  
{Can you? A shadow and a threat, you say? Was it not a voice?}  
{The voice speaks of shadow, and of danger. I have not lied}  
{Of course not. Never does Mirkwood's Prince lie}  
  
Legolas received no answer from Aragorn. For it was then, that a fact was revealed. Frodo was missing, as was Boromir.  
  
{Then, I suppose your hallucination was in fact real. For you were right, dear prince, the voice that answered the lull of the ring, was in fact Boromir's} his own voice mocked him…  
  
And Legolas was left boiling in anger, for his own self-doubts may cost the fellowship another life,  
  
He may cost them the ring bearer's life.  
  
****  
Running through the trees with Gimli in tow, Legolas' hurried to find the little hobbit, or any trace of the human he knew was with him.  
  
{How could I doubt myself?}  
  
Pausing to let Gimli catch up, he searched further, eyes traveling through land and trees, elven senses toned towards any sound of voices, any sound of steps, or anything that may help them in their search.  
  
{I knew what I heard, yet, I doubted. I waited too long before warning Aragorn…}  
  
Gimli ran fast, straining to not be left behind by the elf's lighter steps, and longer legs. His eyes could see nothing beyond trees and natural beauty. Not that he noticed the beauty of the place, for his worries lay elsewhere.  
  
{The voice spoke clearly of Gondor; of the way the Ring would help them all. It spoke of a stone city that needed the power of a gold jewel…and its seductive tone would have lured most…}  
  
And then, they heard it.  
  
Boromir's horn sounded; the horn of Gondor's call was loud in the silent forest.  
  
{Aye…Boromir!}  
  
"The horn of Gondor!" He heard his voice cry to Gimli, before his legs carried him swiftly towards the sound.  
  
{You knew of Boromir. You heard his voice answer the call, did you not?}  
{Aye, I did. He answered the call, speaking of the rights his people have earned. My own doubts…}  
{Can kill them all}   
  
And he barely noticed that he ran faster.   
  
"Orcs!" He shouted, loud enough for Gimli to hear. His bow was on his hand in a flash, and arrows flew and killed dozens of orcs, as Gimli swiftly cut through quite a few of the creatures' throats.  
  
But when they finally reached Boromir, it was too late.  
  
Aragorn was there, kneeling before him, and Legolas' heard the son of Gondor draw his last breath.  
  
When the warrior lay still and silent before Aragorn's tear filled eyes, Legolas' blood ran cold.  
  
{You see, fair prince?} His voice sounded loud and he wanted to cover his ears against the cruel sound of it {you have killed another one}  
  
To be continued 


	8. Hide and Seek

Disclaimer: I know, I know, not mine! No need to remind me I'm not that good :)   
  
Author Notes: So many reviews!! There are so many nice people reading this. I am so happy right now. Please keep reading!! (and reviewing!! ^_^)  
  
To answer di, I can't really say! We'll see the things he'll have to face first, and try to make it realistic, for after all this suffering, no one is really left untouched…ok?.  
  
And now, the lines that keep you reading! (lol) English is my second language so I apologize for any spelling or grammar mistakes. Elvish is the way I believe it to be (because I'm going to try and add some Sindarin in here :)) and most likely mistaken. I love reviews…any idea why I said that again? *g* And any quotes, this time are from the book, because I found a small part of it in English! *happy dance*  
  
Master in Deceiving  
By Yours Truly  
  
{Boromir is dead}  
  
Wide blue eyes searched Aragorn's face, even though he knew what had happened. He heard it; he could clearly see Boromir's body with cruel dark arrows sticking out of it. Yet he searched the ranger's face, his friend's face, for some sign of hope.  
  
{So soon, you have killed again?}  
  
There was none, only grief in the mortal's stormy grey eyes. And when grey met blue, Legolas felt his face go pale.  
  
{Can you feel the loss?}  
  
He felt like weeping, like a child, and abandoning this quest that had cost them dearly; had cost them too much, too soon.   
  
{So you are running away? I don't even know why you have gone this far! In Moria you should have turned back, freed your companions in Lothlórien. But here you still stand…in front of the body of the man you have killed just now}  
  
Bowing his head and closing his eyes tight, Legolas suppressed ideas, suppressed images, suppressed emotions, as best as he could. Protecting his face, his actions and his very presence with the illusion of strength, with the mask he had carried for thousands of years.   
  
"Alas!" He said, walking to Aragorn's side. "We have hunted and slain many Orcs in the woods, but we should have been of more use here."  
  
{Maybe Gimli could have stopped the orcs…could have done something to protect this poor human}  
{Against you?}  
  
"We came when we heard the horn-but too late, it seems. I fear you have taken deadly hurt." His voice sounded melodic, and steady as ever.  
  
{I have hurt Aragorn…I have killed Boromir…and Mithrandir… by Elbereth I am slaughtering them all!}  
  
"Boromir is dead," said Aragorn. "I am unscathed"  
  
{Are you? I killed your friends…I am still murdering your friends…}  
  
"…For I was not here with him. He fell defending the hobbits, while I was away upon the hill."  
  
{He fell while I knew he was in danger, while I knew he had been tempted …he was alone…}  
{You abandoned him, did you not? You were looking for Frodo…but what of Boromir? Of Boromir you thought nothing but betrayal. And he fell because of you}  
{Frodo…?}  
  
"The hobbits!" cried Gimli, his voice cutting like his axe through the elf's thoughts "Where are they then? Where is Frodo?"  
  
{Yes, Legolas. Where is Frodo? Did you at least found him? Did you protect him, like you swore you would? Where is he?}  
  
****  
Frodo paddled away from the shore, and the River bore him and Sam swiftly away. Down the western arm, and past the frowning cliffs of Tol Brandir.  
****  
  
A strange feeling overcame Legolas, as images of the wide river filled his head.  
  
{Now I think of nature? When Boromir has passed? Now I manage to think of the beautiful river? When I murdered another one?}  
{Is that what you're thinking of, right now, fair prince? Of nature?}  
{No…I'm thinking of blood}  
  
"I do not know," answered Aragorn wearily, interrupting Legolas' thoughts once again. "Before he died Boromir told me that the Orcs had bound them; he did not think that they were dead."  
  
{Nay…}  
{The hobbits as well, Legolas of Mirkwood?}  
{NAY! AL I LEND AROD PERIANNATH! AL I TITHEN IR!} (Nay! Not the sweet noble hobbits! Not the little ones!)  
  
"I sent him to follow Merry and Pippin; but I did not ask him if Frodo or Sam were with him: not until it was too late."  
  
{Nay…say it's a lie …Aragorn, nay, wake Boromir up…wake him up, make him stand again, and tell the hobbits to stop hiding…you taught them to play, did you not? Like when you were younger and we used to play? Remember? That you hid and I went looking for you in Rivendell? They must have loved that game!}  
  
{Open your eyes, Prince of Mirkwood. Open your eyes and see the blood around Boromir, see Aragorn's tears…}  
  
{Nay…nay…the hobbits are very good playing…I can't hear them! Pippin must be waiting for me to go and find him, now…and Merry must be hiding with him! And Sam must have helped Frodo to find a good hiding place, too…Boromir? Would you help me look for the little ones, please? We don't have a lot of time, so we must find them fast…Aragorn? You can tell Boromir to stand up now…}  
  
"All that I have done today has gone amiss. What is to be done now"   
  
{His voice is so sad…why is that? Estel?}  
{Legolas…look around…}  
{Nay…he's gone…I killed him?}  
{Yes, little prince. You know that}  
{And I hurt the little ones too?}  
{Yes, Legolas. And you're hurting Aragorn, now. See? He thinks it's his entire fault}  
{But it's my fault!}  
{That's right. Tell him what to do now, Legolas. Mithrandir fell and you ran. What are you going to do about Boromir? Estel is asking what to do now}  
  
"First we must tend the fallen," said Legolas, answering Aragorn's question gently. "We cannot leave him lying like carrion among these foul Orcs."  
  
{I cannot bear to seem him like this anymore…is he not going to wake up, now? is he gone…for real?}  
  
Gimli said something that he elf barely heard, but Aragorn's grief filled voice managed to cut though the confused haze of thoughts that was now Legolas' mind, and he felt his voice answer, what he said, he didn't even realize.   
  
{I want to cry. Why is that?}  
{Hear of what they speak of, little prince}  
  
"…The River of Gondor will take care at least that no evil creature dishonors his bones."  
  
{Bones?}  
{Estel wants you to help him, Legolas. He wants to let Boromir sail back to his home, now, all right?}  
{All right. What do I do to help?}  
{He wants you to take all the weapons from the orcs lying in here; so that, with those, Boromir can defend himself on the boat}  
  
With a nod to himself, Legolas searched the bodies of the Orcs, gathering their swords and cloven helms and shields into a heap. Gimli and Aragorn doing the same.  
  
Suddenly the Ranger's voice rose, and spoke of the little ones.  
  
{The other ones you murdered}  
{What?}  
{Merry and Pippin. They have been captured, because of you}  
{I…I thought they were hiding? Those little ones love to play}  
{You know that's not true, Legolas.}  
{Yes, it is. They love to play}  
{You know of what I speak, little prince}  
{I…think…}  
{Estel is speaking, now, Legolas, listen to what he's saying}  
  
"…I will take these things, hoping against hope, to give them back."  
  
{No…'tis not true, they are all right!}  
{Are they? Why didn't you protect them, Legolas?}  
{No…I do not wish to hear this!}  
  
"And I," Legolas said suddenly, "Will take all the arrows that I can find, for my quiver is empty."  
  
{Yes. I'll focus on that. I need arrows to protect them. I am a good archer; I need arrows for my quiver…}  
{You can't escape this Legolas…}  
{Arrows, many arrows, some of these arrows look a little strange, don't they?}  
{You can't escape what you did}  
{These do not look as the arrows the orcs use…}  
  
Legolas looked at them closely, and nobody noticed when his eyes unfocused.  
  
****  
"Farewell, and may the blessing of Elves and Men and all Free Folk go with you. May the stars shine upon your faces! "   
  
****  
Elrond's departing words rang loud on elven ears, as Legolas looked up to the sky briefly. It was day, there were no stars…and he felt happy about that. He could not bear the thought of them watching his disgrace. Of the star's light covering his wrong deeds.  
  
{What thoughts can you bear at this point, Legolas? You are weak; you are the reason of so much death…}  
  
"I have not seen these tokens before," Aragorn's voice managed to bring him back into the present. "What do they mean?"  
"S is for Sauron," said Gimli. "That is easy to read."  
  
{Nothing is easy to read anymore}  
  
"Nay!" he said softly, but his cold tone made his two remaining companions look at him. "Sauron does not use the Elf-runes."  
  
With a small questioning frown at him, Aragorn added something, else, but the elf no longer heard.   
  
{You can't escape any of this! The halflings are gone. Because of you, and only you, they are missing. And Boromir is dead, and Mithrandir has fallen into shadow. Aragorn doubts himself, when nothing is his fault! Grief has settled in his mortal heart, because of you, you know this is all true, and you know you can't escape it}  
  
With almost unnoticeably glazed eyes, Legolas followed Gimli's lead to bring back the boats, and the grief was too much for the dwarf to notice anything. When they found one of the boats missing, Legolas searched around for it, and Gimli didn't thought anything of his silence.  
  
And neither Gimli nor Aragorn noticed that Legolas' voice sounded hollow, when he finally spoke, and that he didn't really seem to be there anymore.  
  
For Legolas was… busy.  
  
{Estel? Gimli? Where did you two go? I can't see you…what is that song you are singing Aragorn? Can I sing? It sounds so sad…I'm sad too…}  
  
{Boromir? Where are you going? Can you see Frodo and the little ones from that boat? We have to find them soon! But I can't hear them; they are very good at hiding…}  
  
To be continued 


	9. Protected from Life

Disclaimer: If LOTR were mine, I would be very rich right now…and believe me, I'm not.   
  
Author Notes: I wasn't able to check if I got any reviews on the last chapter, so I'm taking a chance here :) I hope all of the nice people who were reading this, are still here! If this chapter is bad, blame it no the 1000 factors that led me to write it almost line by line @_@  
  
English is my second language, so I apologize for any grammar or spelling mistakes. Elvish is the way I believe it to be, most likely mistaken. Quotes are taken from the book, with things changed, of course…and I love reviews :)  
  
Master in Deceiving  
By Yours Truly  
  
{There is something very wrong…}  
  
"No other folk make such a trampling," His elven voice said. "It seems their delight to slash and beat down growing things that are not even in their way."   
  
Yet, Legolas was not speaking.  
  
{Where am I?}  
{You are protected, Legolas}  
{Protected? Where? I can hear my voice speaking, yet it's not me thinking those lines…I can hear Aragorn and Gimli, clearly, can feel my body moving…but I see nothing…what is this…Estel? Get me out of here…its dark…Gimli…Where are you all?}  
{Shh little Prince, do not panic. This is but your own mind…}  
{What? Nay, I wish to be out of here! Elbereth…Im iest an tira i gîl…Im car al cen calad ned si…} (Elbereth… I wish to see the stars…I do not see light in here)  
{Do you think you deserve light?}  
{No…I…perhaps not, but I wish to help…to find the periannath…} (Hobbits)  
{They are lost because of you}  
{And I want to find them! Let me out!}  
{You are not ready}  
{…I…I want to be out…}  
{Hush little prince; just wait…}  
{…'Tis so dark…}  
{Just wait…}  
  
Aragorn looked around as they advanced, following the tracks left behind by the orcs. To him it seemed like the orcs had left them far behind…too far behind. But hope was not to be lost, for he knew that they had to succeed, there was not any other choice. They had traveled so much in one day, in the highlands of Emyn Muil, where the trace became harder to follow, and the company of three slowed their pace.   
  
The Ranger was greatly concerned, and burdened from the death of his human friend, he was burdened from Gandalf's fall, and the fact that he had left him in charge…and from the very quest they were now pursing, hoping against any odds to help the little hobbits, now in the hand of foul orcs…  
  
And he was burdened, as he had been since Lórien, for being unable to speak to his friend…after Galadriel had taken the elf away from their conversation in the golden woods, Legolas had avoided contact with him, answering only the necessary to keep up appearances, no longer singing like he loved to, and no longer smiling like he used to…with a sigh Aragorn looked ahead, and was relieved to see that just a few paces ahead; the Emyn Muil came to an end.   
  
Hurrying towards green grass, he soon was stepping on the valley of Rohan.  
  
{I can feel…grass…nature! Where are we?}  
{Rohan}  
{I wish to see!}  
{You cannot. Just feel…}  
{Please? Just for a moment…I wish to say something, to have control of my words…}  
{You think you are ready? Very well Legolas; open your eyes and enjoy the view}  
  
Even when he had been up all day, and not once he had escaped into the dream world of elves, Legolas felt as if he were waking up from a nightmare. The green of the grass was like a gift from the Valar to a tired soul.  
  
"Ah! The green smell!" he said. "It is better than much sleep. Let us run!"  
  
{Please, give me something to drive the thoughts away?}  
{You can't escape it, little prince}  
  
"Light feet may run swiftly here," Aragorn answered, drawing his friend's eyes towards him. "More swiftly, maybe, than iron-shod Orcs. Now we have a chance to lessen their lead!"  
  
His feet felt light, as he ran, and he felt wonderful, almost normal…no voice, no anguish, nothing to remind him of the quest. Surrounded by green fields, he forgot even the reason why he was running.  
  
But the illusion was shattered when he came across the beaten grass, left behind by many orcs.  
  
Then Aragorn was showing him something to be hopeful about, for Pippin had been alive when he passed these fields. And had left them proof of his presence, by leaving a leaf made of jewels in the middle of the path.  
  
{See how desperate the little one was? See that he left some so precious behind? Do you see what you did to him?}  
{He was alive…}   
{For how much longer?}  
{Don't say that…they will be all right…}  
{Will they? And what of Frodo?}  
{He…he left…}  
{To his death!}  
{Do not say such things}  
{You are not ready…}  
{NAY! Do not put be back in that dark place! I wish to be outside…}  
  
"Let us hope that he did not pay too dearly for his boldness," he said sadly, hoping to lead the voice away, to distract it, somehow "Come! Let us go on! The thought of those merry young folk driven like cattle burns my heart."  
  
And they ran, and the voice was quiet, for Legolas was not listening…he was enjoying his moment of freedom, and he was reconnecting with the feeling of being alive, of being able to run, to see nothing but the road ahead, and elven endurance was strong, for he did not get tired, and did not notice the night was falling upon them, until Aragorn stopped their pace.  
  
{NAY! Al idh!} (Nay! Not rest!} Desperate, his voice sounded yet nobody could hear it.  
  
{They will die…} And there was his voice again, cruel and taunting…  
  
{Run Aragorn, we must run!}   
  
{Weak, you want to stay and rest…you will let the little ones die!}  
  
{Aragorn, do not stop!}  
  
The ranger asked them both, the elf and the dwarf to choose, and Legolas hurried to speak his mind.   
  
{I cannot stop now…}  
  
"Unless our enemies rest also, they will leave us far behind, if we stay to sleep." His voice was urgent as he looked ahead.  
  
But Gimli fought him on it, Aragorn decided to stay… and Legolas felt his strength weakening.  
  
{Don't give me a chance…do not give me a choice}  
  
{Weak}  
  
{I do not wish to be in the dark…no…}  
  
{Yes, little prince…}  
  
But Aragorn was fast asleep now, and Legolas' eyes remained open, even while he was once again swallowed by the darkness.   
  
****  
Aragorn woke the next day, to find his dwarf friend still asleep, and Legolas just standing there looking sadly ahead.  
  
His voice was sad, when he spoke, hollow almost, and to the Ranger, the elf's eyes looked unfocused and dull.  
  
"Legolas?"  
  
His friend looked at him, and the lack of inner light on those blue pools, scared Aragorn more than any orc.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"What is ailing you, my friend?"  
  
{Estel…help me; please just help me…'tis so very dark…I'm afraid…}  
  
"Nothing Aragorn. What could be ailing me?"  
  
{Aragorn! He is not I; I am here…Estel listen to me…}  
  
"You know of what I speak, Legolas, do not hide from me" His tone was harsh where his eyes were gentle, and Legolas was screaming inside, for he wanted to break his mask, now…when his mask was breaking him.  
  
Legolas shook his head, apparently confused, and it was then that Aragorn saw something strange in the blue orbs.  
  
A small light that shined in his eyes, to then vanish just as fast as it had come. It flicked in and out, giving Legolas' gaze the illusion of life…momentarily, before settling back into a dull fog.  
  
"Legolas?" He asked, surprised at what he saw 'Pedan nin!' (Speak to me!)  
  
"I am speaking to you," his voice answered calmly, but Aragorn saw the small light that came and went in his eyes.  
  
"What is this?" the human murmured to himself, moving closer to his elven friend. "Legolas…?"  
  
{It's not I, it is not I, Estel, look into my eyes, and see with your own eyes, 'tis not me!}  
  
The elf's stoic face did not change, but the light was there again, a little stronger, more noticeable.   
  
"Legolas wake up" Aragorn whispered gently, for his eyes seemed trapped in a nightmare.  
  
"I am awake, Aragorn, what are you saying?"  
  
{No, I am not Aragorn; get me out of the dark!}  
  
The ranger, now seriously concerned moved closer and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. Legolas shuddered.  
  
{I think I can see you now…}  
  
The light slowly returned to blue eyes and Aragorn started to smile, when suddenly Legolas started to fall. With fast reflexes the ranger was able to catch him and gently hold him in strong arms.  
  
{I can see…}  
{You are not ready}  
{Neither are you}  
  
"What was that Legolas? Are you all right, my friend?"  
His body was shaking, and Legolas felt a tear sliding slowly down his face, as he shook his head hesitantly.  
"…Estel…I…something is wrong…I'm sc…scared…"  
Grey eyes widening, Aragorn placed his arm around Legolas' shoulder.  
"What is it…?"  
  
He never finished his question, for Gimli woke up then, and when he looked back at Legolas, his mask was back in place, the dim light in his blue eyes that spoke of suppressed emotion was the only sign that the Ranger had not been dreaming.  
  
To be continued 


	10. Face or Mask?

Disclaimer: Who could believe that *I* was J.R Tolkien?   
  
Author Notes: Thank you so much everyone!! Never in my wildest dreams did I think I could even get close to 60 reviews! I hope this chapter does not disappoint anyone.   
  
English is my second language, so I apologize for any grammar or spelling mistakes. Elvish is the way I believe it to be, most likely mistaken. Any quotes are taken from the book.   
  
To answer a review I got: I use the Sindarin dictionary and my own imagination for the elvish, to answer "Empress Greenleaf (aka GeminiE" who asked :) And yeah, English is my second language ^_^ I speak Spanish.  
  
Please, R&R! A few little words mean so much to me!  
  
Master in Deceiving  
By Yours Truly  
  
"But it is still dark," said Gimli, barely awakening. "Even Legolas on a hill-top could not see them till the Sun is up."  
  
{If I do not find a reason to keep fighting, I'm afraid I would not see your hand in front of my eyes, Master dwarf}  
{What reason is there to keep fighting, Legolas? Haldir, and now even Aragorn have seen your weakness, seen how you hide}  
{I did not wish to stay in the dark…I did not wish to show them}  
{Yet, you did. You did not fight…}  
  
"I fear they have passed beyond my sight from hill or plain, under moon or sun," said Legolas.  
  
Aragorn's eyes were sad when he noticed Legolas averted his gaze from his, even when he answered his words.   
  
"Where sight fails the earth may bring us rumour," The ranger said, placing his ear to the ground.  
  
{I could hear them as well, Aragorn, stand up from the floor. We must move}  
  
{Do you realize how selfish you are?}  
  
Aragorn focused in hearing the distant sound of iron clad feet, and the approaching sound of horses. His sleep had been troubled from the sounds, and he distractedly thought that he would not be sleeping well for some time, now. For even if these were not dangerous and troubled times, his friend's words had shook him to the bone.  
  
{I wish to help…}  
{Aye, you wish to help yourself}  
{i periannath…} (The hobbits)  
{…Are not important to you, as long as you receive what you long for}  
  
It was the first time in a life-long friendship the ranger had ever heard Legolas admit an emotion openly…much less show the terror in his eyes, as he had in that instant.  
  
{All I long for is freedom}  
{Freedom? Pray tell, where are you being held?}  
{In my own mind…and I wish it no longer, I wish for no voices, and I wish for freedom, for normalcy}  
{Hear this little Prince, for without voices, you would not seem normal. For normalcy, with you, has always been a mere illusion, created by yourself, to others. And this is what has occurred. To others you are normal, and you are left to deal with the reality…alone}  
  
Finally deciding on what to inform, Aragorn stood up from the ground in the dawn's pale light, and glanced at his friends; informing them both of the horses coming, and the very distant sound of the orcs.   
  
{Go and run, Legolas. But from yourself you cannot escape}  
  
"Let us go!" The elf said, looking ahead.  
  
{Let us go, by Elbereth, allow me to run}  
  
{Weak}  
  
So the third day of their pursuit began. During all its long hours of cloud and fitful sun they hardly paused, now striding, now running, as if no weariness could quench the fire that burned them. They seldom spoke.  
And Legolas felt every instant like a thousand of his years, for the silence that reigned between him and his friends, was not lived by him.  
  
{Run, run little Prince}  
  
His legs felt light, as he ran.  
  
{Try to escape, attempt to entertain yourself, but you will see}  
  
Yet his mind felt as heavy as the biggest rock.  
  
Aragorn was close behind him, the hobbits were in mortal danger, and they had to reach them before Saruman could do anything to the poor little ones…  
  
{You will see it is not possible to run from your fears, and it is not possible to ignore your own mind}  
  
Endless leagues they had passed, and Legolas was certain he would keep running for endless days, if it was what it took to bring home those cheery hobbits. Yet he knew that the others could not, and his internal battle was tiring him, in the way running never did. The silence was heavy in these lands, and the lack of life around them, had him alert to anything.   
  
{Selfish you are, little Prince. You are alert; because you do not wish to hear what you know is the truth. Without this voices that confuse you and make you fight against your own mind, you would not seem normal to others. You would not know how to handle anything}  
  
And adding to everything else, he could feel another presence in the air, in his very thoughts, trying to slow him down…another presence that for once, were not his own doubts.   
  
The company halted at dusk, and Legolas turned to look at Aragorn, for the first time since they had spoken earlier, in the eyes.  
  
{You cannot run}  
  
"Now do I most grudge a time of rest or any halt in our chase" said Legolas. "The Orcs have run before us, as if the very whips of Sauron were behind them. I fear they have already reached the forest and the dark hills, and even now are passing into the shadows of the trees."  
  
{I wish to die}  
{Your wish shall be granted when your right all your wrongs}  
{How am I to bring the dead back to life? How am I alone to save the little ones from an army or orcs?}  
{How are you to die, then, my dear Prince?}  
  
Aragorn was speaking of something important, something he knew, and he forced his mind to focus on his voice.  
  
"…Sets an unseen barrier before us: a weariness that is in the heart more than in the limb." The human was saying. And Legolas recognized of what he spoke of.  
  
"Truly!" said Legolas. "That I have known since first we came down from the Emyn Muil. For the will is not behind us but before us." Pointing he drew his friend's attention away from his face.  
"Saruman!" He heard his mortal friend mutter, and then he said what he did not want to hear.  
  
They were to rest once more.  
  
Gathering strength, he offered to take first watch and let his friends sleep. Focusing on his surroundings and on the quest ahead, Legolas did not wake anybody during the night, for he knew that if he sank into the dream world, he might stay there.   
  
But on this night, there was never silence…always his own voice haunted him, to the point of wishing he were a mortal, for surely he would have dropped dead by now.   
  
{Weak…}  
{Coward…}  
{Not worthy…}  
{Murderer…}  
{You wish to give up…}  
{Rest, little Prince…}  
{Go, and dream…}  
{Cannot escape, you shall never escape…}  
  
Giving up on his mask, in the external quiet of the night, his tears fell silent, with no one to witness the scene…or so the elf thought.  
  
For two pairs of eyes were watching, and both felt dread at the thought of facing Legolas.  
  
For, no matter how much Aragorn had always wished that Legolas would break his mask; he was not ready to face it, just now. He was not ready to deal with the pain he could see on his friend's expression.  
  
And a shadow observed, a strange, sad light in it's ancient eyes.  
  
****  
  
When Legolas could take no more, he moved to wake his friends, waking Aragorn first. He moved to wake the dwarf when the ranger caught his arm.  
  
"Legolas, we must speak of this" his voice was gentle as he looked deeply into the familiar elven features "whatever is troubling you, is killing you, I can see it in your eyes"  
  
Legolas shook his head, his words soft. "'Tis nothing my friend…I am merely saddened, that is all"  
  
Aragorn stopped his second attempt to wake Gimli, and forced him to look into grey eyes.  
  
"It is not nothing" he said firmly "if it were nothing, your eyes would not be begging me to understand as we speak"  
  
Legolas sighed, knowing Aragorn, he would not let go of the subject. He sat down on the ground and pulled the ranger to sit next to him; when he did, the elf took a hold of his forearms and looked him straight in the eyes.  
  
{I am scared}  
{I am weak}  
{I wish to die}  
{I murdered Mithrandir}  
{I have killed Boromir}  
{The hobbits are gone because of me}  
{I am slaughtering you all}  
{The quest shall fail because of me}  
  
"I am all right," His voice declared, with a note of sadness and a note of honesty. Fake honesty. And if Aragorn had not grown up amongst elves, he would not know the difference.  
  
But he did.  
  
"You are not" the ranger said firmly, holding the gaze of his friend "You seem…gone sometimes, my friend. Your eyes as vacant as if you slept, yet I know, you have not rested. Whenever we mention Gandalf, you turn your eyes away" Aragorn paused, when he saw Legolas almost did it again, but controlled himself. "And now, if I even dare to say something of Boromir's demise, your expression becomes so tortured, I cannot help but wonder if your heart is fading with grief"  
  
The last words were no more than a whisper, and they resounded like a shout in the elf's mind.  
  
{Grief}  
{You're dying}  
{Like I deserve}  
{But you must not. For you must right all your wrongs}  
{'Tis impossible…}  
{You have caused everything, and you are thinking of leaving everything behind, for your friends to correct what you did wrong?}  
  
"Do not speak of such things, my friend" Legolas said with a small…forced, smile. "I am not fading, grief has not…"  
  
"Legolas just…please, speak with the truth for once!" Aragorn spoke loudly, and winced when he remembered the sleeping dwarf.   
  
But Gimli still slept, and he turned to the elf again.   
  
"You are not all right, you are more than merely saddened" his voice was quieter now, but the power of his words were not lost on the elf "Legolas, I remember what you told me when we passed the mines of Moria…"  
  
Blue eyes turned away and Aragorn forced his chin up, to face him.  
  
"You. Did. Not. Murder. Gandalf" Aragorn said fiercely. "You did nothing, that the rest of us did not"  
  
{Yes you did, Legolas. You know you have} No words can compete with your own voice.  
  
"Aragorn…" he sighed "I shall leave the quest if this is troubling you so…I knew I should have gone back in Lothlórien, but for a moment, it had seemed different. Not any more, though, my friend. You do not need to try and make me happy with a lie, or forgive me for my actions…"  
"Legolas, 'tis nothing but the truth…"  
  
{'Tis not}  
  
"It is not" his voice was as quiet as the wind, but his words were heard by the human "I heard the warning, and allowed Mithrandir to die, instead of me" he sighed "It was my time, and now, death has been after me…it took Boromir, and it will take the rest of you if I fail to go…Aragorn, 'tis my responsibility, I tried to make it right…"  
"Legolas, you are over two thousand years old" Aragorn stated sadly "You are wise, my friend, very wise. I know you cannot possibly believe this"  
  
{I do not…}  
{But it is the truth}  
{Estel says 'tis not…}  
{Lies…all lies…}  
{He does not lie!}  
{He does not? He is perfect then?}  
{Honest, not perfect…}  
{So desperate are you to escape reality? You are willing to believe the words that speak what you wish to hear?}  
{Yes}  
  
"I…I do not know, Estel" He finally whispered "it chases after me every second…every day, and it speaks in my own voice, it speaks…and it says so much, so many things…and they must be truth, for I hear them as clearly as I hear you speak"  
  
Aragorn moved closer to his friend and spoke, seeing that the blasted mask was for once gone, as Legolas was speaking and emotion could be seen, clearly written on his features…for the first time since Aragorn could remember.  
  
"What you hear is guilt, Legolas, guilt that you should not carry, for the shadows wished to take you, and you fought it, and it failed to bring you down. Legolas, you won that battle"  
"I did not fought…"  
"Yes you did, Legolas" Aragorn whispered harshly "You fought it, you fought the shadows, you fought the orcs and the goblins, and without you, we might have not escaped those darks realms"  
  
"Maybe we should not have escaped…" Legolas whispered to himself, repeating the words being whispered into his thoughts.  
  
"What?" Aragorn hissed, now grabbing the elf by he shoulders "How can you have said that?"  
  
"We escaped, only to loose Boromir, to separate from Frodo and the gentle Sam, and to allow those other two little hobbits to be taken by a band of orcs!" Legolas exclaimed, once more endangering waking Gimli.   
  
But heavy was the sleep of dwarfs, and for that Aragorn had never been more thankful.   
  
"Gandalf, and Boromir, both have passed in glory, for they died fighting the darkness…and Legolas you are allowing it to consume you without a fight."  
  
{You do not deserve glory}  
  
"Of course you deserve glory, Legolas!"  
  
Just then, did the elf realize that he was no longer speaking, for the words that escaped his mouth were the same, that those whispering in his mind.  
  
"You are warrior, and such a wise, gentle spirit…you deserve everything"  
  
{Of course you do not! You are nothing but a murderer, and the one to blame for slaughtering you all, one by one. What of the quest if the next is Estel? What then? What of the hobbits, and of the ring, if you go after Frodo after that?}  
  
"What is this, Legolas?" Aragorn hissed, angry like he was speaking to Sauron himself. "For this is not my friend, not the elf I have known my whole life!"  
  
{No, 'tis not. For with each one you murder, you have killed yourself}  
  
"You are in there Legolas, and 'tis not you speaking"  
  
{Who then?}  
  
"Fight it, Legolas. Fight like you have done every single time you wish for something!"  
  
{I wish for freedom}  
  
{And you shall not have it, for you are not ready}  
  
"Legolas, you are strong!"  
  
{Weak}  
  
"You know you can fight it"  
  
{You shall never escape}  
  
"Come back to me, my friend"  
  
{You are a murderer}  
  
"Fight"  
  
{Sleep}  
  
Blue eyes closed, and before Aragorn's eyes, Legolas shuddered visibly, before he sat still again.  
  
When his gaze met his once more, the light in them was…just as he remembered it, and a smile escaped Legolas' lips, for the first time in long endless days.  
  
"I thank you, Estel," His voice said softly, and Aragorn felt his face broke into a smile of his own.   
  
Legolas stood up from his seat, and nodded towards the horizon. "But now, we must continue"  
  
As before Legolas was first afoot, if indeed he had ever slept. "Awake! Awake!" he cried. "It is a red dawn. Strange things await us by the eaves of the forest. Good or evil, I do not know; but we are called. Awake!"  
  
And of that night's conversation that was all Gimli heard.  
  
{You will see, little Prince. You shall see}  
  
To be continued.  
The longest chapter yet, is it not? I hope I have not disappointed anyone! 


	11. Self Control

Disclaimer: *rolls on the floor laughing hysterically* you think they are mine?   
  
Author notes: Oh my, over 70 reviews!! I am so excited…don't stop now :) I love to hear…rather… read from you! Sorry for the delay on this chapter, but I wanted to add a little song, and I had to translate the lyrics into Sindarin!  
  
English is my second language, so I apologize for any grammar or spelling mistakes made in here. Elvish is the way I believe it to be, most likely mistaken. Any quotes are taken from the book, with lines of my own in the middle of them.   
I adapted some lyrics from a group called "Lacrimosa" and a song called "The Turning Point" Just in case, not mine, I just changed it a little to fit in here.   
  
Thank you to everyone who keeps reading this story, and specially those who review it repeatedly! Thank you, as well, to everyone who has given the time to write a line in Spanish, that's really sweet of you :)   
¡Se los agradezco de verdad, son muy amables con esta principiante!   
  
Master in Deceiving  
By Yours Truly  
  
That night grew ever colder. Aragorn and Gimli slept fitfully, and whenever they awoke they saw Legolas standing beside them, or walking to and fro, singing softly to himself in his own tongue. Submerged too deep in exhaustion, both failed to notice what he sang.  
  
Al lalaith erin nîn thîr - (No laughter on my face -)  
Uir galad andaithant am enni (Eternity's reflection marked upon me)  
And taen annen am* anim an i caeda (Too long sacrificed myself for the lie)  
An i caeda ned nîn cuil (For the lie of my life)  
  
Be na-erui nedh nîn faeg yl* (As only in my nightmares)  
Im nîn garn coth (I am my own enemy)  
  
Such a sad melody, as soft as the whisper of the winds, that would have caused whoever heard it to feel the sea of emotion that coursed through the singer.   
  
Depression, desperation, anger, self-loathing, regret…  
  
No one was there to hear it, though.  
  
{You shall see…}  
  
And the whisper still haunted him, confusing him, as the words filled with sorrow escaped his immortal lips.   
  
Im caral peden ned nîn pân (I did not speak of my pain)  
Ha caral thia fair (It did not seem right)  
Im caral tirad i fuin telina (I did not see the darkness coming)  
Im car al cuinar i araid (I do not live the days)  
  
...Ha thiai Im aníra gûr... (... it seems I desire death…)  
  
Those whispered words were the last uttered on that silent night, as dawn slowly came; his companions woke and together they watched the dawn grow slowly in the sky, now bare and cloudless, until at last the sunrise came.  
  
There was no confusing voice, on this day, it seemed. Aragorn and Gimli were silent beside him, watching the sky. Legolas, as usual, was wearing his mask and seemed to be appreciating this fine morning, when in truth desperation was taking a strong hold of his mind.  
  
{What must I do now?}   
{I should…I…Estel should know what to do…}  
  
Following with his keen eyes the trail to the river, and then the river back towards the forest, Aragorn saw a shadow on the distant green, a dark swift-moving blur. He cast himself upon the ground and listened again intently.  
  
{Estel is feeling something…I should look}  
  
And his elven sight focused on the small figures of many horsemen approaching. The spears they carried seemed to glow in the morning light, and the elf wished he were closer to them  
  
{They could kill me before I said 'good morning'}  
  
Far behind them a dark smoke rose in thin curling threads.  
  
{Beautiful fire that could burn my skin, my body, free me from Middle earth…}  
  
"Riders!" cried Aragorn, springing to his feet. "Many riders on swift steeds are coming towards us!"  
  
{What am I thinking?}  
  
"Yes," Legolas said softly, shaking himself off dark thoughts. Focusing on the vision before him "there are one hundred and five. Yellow is their hair, and bright are their spears. Their leader is very tall."  
  
Aragorn looked at his friend and smiled. "Keen are the eyes of the Elves," he said with a hint of amusement, and Legolas wanted nothing more than to grin at him and enjoy a short moment of teasing, like the old days.   
  
But his face would not smile anymore.  
  
{I…I need answers…what is happening? Who are they? What should I do?}  
{You shall see, little prince}  
{Nay! Wait! Answer me!}  
{You wish for freedom}  
  
"Nay! The riders are little more than five leagues distant," said Legolas dismissively, even as he screamed in agony inside.  
  
{I wish to smile…}  
{You wish for freedom}  
{Answer me please! Why I cannot smile, anymore? Why can I not tease? Be…being me?}  
{You shall see…}  
{I need answers! The hobbits are…the hobbits!}  
  
Focusing ahead, he sighed. "There are three empty saddles, but I see no hobbits" he announced sadly, interrupting Gimli and Aragorn.   
  
{Aragorn said we are to wait for the raiders…should I wait? Should I say something?}  
  
"E…" {Estel}  
  
The name died on his lips and he closed his mouth, sighing.  
  
{I know not what to do…Aragorn is right, he knows better}  
  
His mind was silent, and he began to despair.  
  
{Too silent…}  
{Too much choices…}  
{Too much decisions of too much importance}  
{Too many dangers}  
{So many thoughts, I cannot even grasp them all…images of the millenniums I've seen, dance too fast before my very eyes…where is the control I had over my own mind?!}  
  
Present and past images mixed and his eyes went unfocused and focused from one blink to the next, struggling to grasp the conversation between Aragorn and Gimli, Legolas heard but words.  
  
"…Riders of Rohan"  
  
"Not…orcs…"  
  
"Gandalf"  
  
{Nay…}  
  
"Pay tribute…"  
  
"Mordor"  
  
"Boromir"  
  
{Nay…Boromir went sailing, did he not? He went on board of this elven boat? …Aye, I remember, I have not found the little ones, they have sure hidden far now…we have been looking for days…they are indeed good at hiding…nay…wait…Estel? That is not right, is it? The hobbits are not hiding, are they?}  
  
Focusing on the approaching figures, Legolas spoke to himself.   
  
"You will soon learn the truth"  
  
And was surprised when Aragorn and Gimli seemed to quite at his words.   
  
{Have I spoken?}  
  
The riders were closer, much closer, and the shouts they gave and the sound of their horses could not be missed by the deafer of men. The images they presented filled Legolas with grief, for their stance reminded him too much of a Mirkwood raiding party, the ones he sometimes joined to patrol the border area, but this group was much larger, and he could not discern his friends between them, their features were human. The horses much different, and they were much louder.   
  
And this place was not Mirkwood.  
  
{For some reason, I do not feel sad for the fact that I do not have to return to Mirkwood…yet}  
  
He was shocked to feel dread at the thought of his home.  
  
{I must return to Mirkwood when this is over…'tis my home…}  
  
He almost broke his mask  
  
{Why am I afraid?} His inner voice sounded as broken as he felt.  
  
They were almost upon them now. Tall, proud horses rode by proud and keen looking men. In the rider's hands there were tall spears of ash, painted shields were slung at their backs, long swords were at their belts, their burnished skirts of mail hung down upon their knees.   
  
They appeared not to perceive the three strangers sitting silently and watching them.   
  
{They won't notice us. That is good, is it not? Estel? Is it not good that these strange folk do not notice us? These people that look so much like elves…is it not good?}  
  
The host had almost passed when suddenly Aragorn stood up, and called in a loud voice:  
  
"What news from the North, Riders of Rohan?"  
  
{Estel! Nay! Why did you did that?}  
  
A thicket of spears were pointed towards the strangers, as they were surrounded in a moving circle of horsemen; and some of them had bows in hand, and their arrows were already fitted to the string. Then one rode forward, a tall man, taller than all the rest; from his helm as a crest a white horsetail flowed.  
  
He moved to threaten Aragorn, but the ranger did not flinch.  
  
{Estel, tell the men to leave}  
{Please?}  
{Estel? Let us continue…these men remind me of home…I wish not to return home…}  
{…Aragorn…don't speak with them…Aragorn…please, let them leave?}  
  
Words were being spoken, yet Legolas heard them not.  
  
{Why can I not focus? They speak and I cannot listen! They move and I do not see clearly…where is my self-control…by Elbereth I need help…so much help…}  
  
He snapped back into focus when he noticed that the proud man seemed to be threatening Gimli, and he moved quickly.  
  
"He stands not alone," said Legolas, bending his bow and fitting an arrow with hands that moved quicker than sight. "You would die before your stroke fell."  
  
Aragorn interceded and Legolas saw it wise to step back. With a lat glance at Gimli, who was sending him a grateful look, Legolas focused on his inner struggle while conversation happened around him.  
  
{Gandalf…Boromir…why do their faces haunt me still…dead…I am immortal, are they not? …Not…aye not they are not…of course not…mortals…Boromir went to sail and Gandalf…Gandalf…so dark…Frodo! Sam! You can come out now! Merry, Pippin! I tire of playing…hello?}  
  
{Where…what…I WISH FOR ANSWERS!}  
  
{You wished for freedom} Silky whispers of a cold voice…his voice, returning into the abyss.  
  
{Nay…nay not any longer…no freedom…can I be normal again? Think straight? Please?}  
  
{No more freedom? Fighting for control? …What of that, little prince?}  
  
{Nay, no more fighting…not ready…}  
  
{That's right}  
  
{Not ready…have to stay inside…}  
  
{Yes, you do. Very good princeling, very good indeed…}  
  
{So dark inside…}  
  
{No more fighting}  
  
{No more fighting…inside…not ready…Estel?}  
  
{Look at him princeling; does he not seem better than you?}  
  
Legolas looked, and he stared, for he had not seen him in this mood before. He seemed to have grown in stature while Éomer had shrunk; and in his living face he caught a brief vision of the power and majesty of the kings of stone. For a moment it seemed to the eyes of Legolas that a white flame flickered on the brows of Aragorn like a shining crown.  
  
Despair…desperation…  
  
{Much more than me…he is my friend…}  
{He cannot be worried for one elf when the fate of hundreds of men lies in his hands. Can he, little prince?}  
{Nay…Estel?}  
  
{Nay, no more, princeling, no more hope}  
  
And Aragorn with Éomer talked on, only few words entering Legolas' confused mind.  
  
"…Slain and burned among the Orcs…"  
  
{Periannath?} (Hobbits?)  
  
"It is hard to be sure of anything among so many marvels…"  
  
{I am sure I wish for death}  
{You are?}  
  
"…Against our law…"  
  
{Yes}  
  
"Nor indeed am I a stranger…"  
  
{I am a stranger inside myself}  
  
{Are you certain, Prince Legolas of Mirkwood?}  
  
"Do not fail."  
  
"I will not"  
  
{I will indeed fail…and for that, aye, I am certain}  
  
{Very well}  
  
Focusing finally on what went on around him, Legolas paid attention, and missed the attention being paid to him.  
  
"Come, you shall sit behind me, friend Gimli," said Legolas…or was it Legolas…Aragorn was afraid of the answer as he observed his friend. "Then all will be well, and you need neither borrow a horse nor be troubled by one."  
  
And the weight of the quest…was nothing next to the huge weight suddenly placed upon an elven heart.  
  
A smaller and lighter horse, but restive and fiery, was brought to Legolas. Arod was his name. But Legolas asked them to take off saddle and rein. "I need them not," he said, and leaped lightly up, and to their wonder Arod was tame and willing beneath him, moving here and there with but a spoken word: such was the elvish way with all good beasts. Gimli was lifted up behind his friend. And he clung to him, not much more at ease than Sam Gamgee in a boat.  
  
Aragorn observed as Legolas petted the animal, fighting to ignore the new weight inside him.  
  
{So this, is how grief feels like…}  
  
To be continued. 


	12. Well met, my friends

Disclaimer: *runs away from lawyers* Aaaagh! All right, all right! Not Mineeeeee!  
  
Author notes: I have much more reviews that I could ever have dreamt of! Thank you everyone…and please don't stop making me happy? ^_^  
  
English is my second language, so I apologize for any grammar or spelling mistakes that can be found in here. Elvish is very likely to be mistaken, for I put it on as I believed it to be. Any quotes are taken from the book, with lines of my own, of course…and…uh…R&R?   
  
Master in Deceiving  
By Yours Truly  
  
"Cut no living wood!" Aragorn warned, looking around uneasily.   
  
"There is no need," said Gimli, also looking around. "The Riders have left chip and bough enough, and there is dead wood lying in plenty." He went off to gather fuel, and busied himself with building and kindling a fire; but Aragorn sat silent with his back to the great tree, deep in thought; and Legolas stood alone in the open, looking towards the profound shadow of the wood, leaning forward, as one who listens to voices calling from a distance.  
  
{Approaching…something approaches…}  
{What do you feel?}  
{Uneasiness…fear…and…excitement}  
{Good or evil, do you think?}  
{I know not…it confuses me…}  
{What does not?}  
{The fact that I am dying}  
{Who says you are?}  
{Grief speaks loudly}  
{Grief always does. You are only listening to it…}  
{But I can feel…}  
{It is not grief, princeling. Do you honestly believe you are to die before all is fixed? Grief has not touched you…and probably never will}  
{Nay, I feel this weight…}  
{Grief is the murderer…guilt is what the murderer feels}  
{What…}  
{Have you so soon forgotten your victims?}  
{Nay, victims they were not. Aragorn explained clearly…}  
{You do remember your thoughts?}  
{Estel…}  
{Was telling lies to relieve the guilt. He needs your hearing and sight on this quest. He does not need you}  
{Estel is my friend…}  
{And is much more than you are…}   
{He…aye, he is}  
{King where you are prince, strong where you are weak, confident where you are insecure…}  
{Something approaches…}  
  
Gimli had lit fire, and Legolas sat close to it, amazed that he felt the need to touch it.  
  
{Burning fire…}  
  
Shaking his head, Legolas looked up, to try and view the stars, when he noticed the tree above their heads. With effort, he focused his thoughts on it, and sighed when again he could not smile.  
"Look!" he said. "The tree is glad of the fire!"  
  
His companions looked at it and smiled.  
  
{If not grief, why I cannot smile?}  
{Because you do not deserve it}  
{…This tree is lonely in this land…}  
{Mirkwood trees are never lonely…}  
{Do not speak of home}  
{Why must I not? afraid, are you? To go back and face your family?}  
{Nay…I…}  
{You are afraid of your own home…}  
{Nay! I can face…}  
{The why can you not speak of it?}  
{I can…}  
{I do not believe it…}  
  
"Celeborn warned us not to go far into Fangorn," Legolas said, breaking the silence and interrupting his thoughts. "Do you know why, Aragorn? What are the fables of the forest that Boromir had heard?"  
  
{Boromir…}  
{Your second victim}  
  
"I have heard many tales in Gondor and elsewhere," Aragorn answered,   
  
{Why does he answer me? …I am not worthy…}   
{For pity}  
  
"But if it were not for the words of Celeborn I should deem them only fables that Men have made as true knowledge fades. I had thought of asking you what was the truth of the matter. And if an Elf of the Wood does not know, how shall a Man answer?"  
  
{Stupid Wood elf…much better man}  
  
"You have journeyed further than I," said Legolas softly, as if asking for forgiveness and Aragorn frowned a little at his tone. "I have heard nothing of this in my own land, save only songs that tell how the Onodrim, that Men call Ents, dwelt there long ago; for Fangorn is old, old even as the Elves would reckon it."  
  
"Yes, it is old," Aragorn, said gently, thinking that maybe he had somehow accused the elf with his earlier tone "as old as the forest by the Barrow-downs, and it is far greater. Elrond says that the two are akin, the last strongholds of the mighty woods of the Elder Days, in which the Firstborn roamed while Men still slept. Yet Fangorn holds some secret of its own. What it is I do not know."  
  
Remembering his foster father's stories, the ranger almost smiled, when the dwarf's voice interrupted his memories.   
  
"And I do not wish to know," said Gimli. "Let nothing that dwells in Fangorn be troubled on my account!"  
  
Legolas did not bother in listening to them anymore. When it was decided that Gimli was to take first watch, he lay down and made an enormous effort to sink into the dream world…hoping that he would not resurface, for exhaustion had somehow cached him.  
  
Images of weakness and whispers of the past, made this night anything but restful.  
  
When Gimli suddenly moved, Legolas' eyes cleared and he sat up, confused.  
  
He saw Aragorn offering something to someone he no longer saw.  
  
The other thing that no longer saw made him cry out. "The horses! The horses!"  
  
While they stared around in silence, Legolas caught Aragorn's gaze. He seemed angered…  
{At you}  
{Why?}  
{You should have heard…}  
{I…I slept}  
{And you failed him again…}  
  
When Aragorn gave him a concerned look, he realized his face was probably showing his emotions, for he had not shielded himself from them. Estel was saying something else, but the elf could see he was about to say something to him, when Gimli spoke.  
  
"Feet!" said Gimli. "But we cannot eat them as well as walk on them " He threw some fuel on the fire and slumped down beside it.   
  
Forcing his mask on, and taking the chance presented, Legolas laughed.   
  
Fake smile, hollow laugh.  
  
And Aragorn noticed.  
  
"Only a few hours ago you were unwilling to sit on a horse of Rohan," laughed Legolas. "You will make a rider yet."  
  
More conversation passed; Legolas barely heard. Worried that Aragorn had caught his trick. But the ranger said nothing, and he relaxed once more, listening to the new set of watches they were to have.  
  
The night passed slowly. Legolas followed Aragorn, and Gimli followed Legolas, and their watches wore away. But nothing happened. The old man did not appear again, and the horses did not return.  
  
****  
  
He had some meaningless conversation with Gimli, and was surprised when the dwarf did not notice he barely knew what he was saying, so focused was him in trying not to disappoint anyone again.  
  
{I should have heard…}  
{Yes, you should have}  
{I heard only the horses}  
{Estel is talking to you, little prince, and better focus on his words}  
  
"Legolas? Did they sound to you like beasts in terror?"  
"No," said Legolas, thrilled to have an answer. "I heard them clearly. But for the darkness and our own fear I should have guessed that they were beasts wild with some sudden gladness. They spoke as horses will when they meet a friend that they have long missed."  
  
"So I thought," said Aragorn; "but I cannot read the riddle, unless they return. Come! The light is growing fast. Let us look first and guess later! We should begin here…" the rest was muffled by his mind as Legolas almost managed a real smile.  
  
{I did not disappoint Estel…}  
{For once, you did not}  
  
They started looking around the ground, and Legolas did the same, not very sure of what they looked for. He reacted only when Aragorn called them closer, and he observed what he held in his hand.  
  
"Here at last we find news!" said Aragorn. He lifted up a broken the leaf for them to see "Here is a mallorn-leaf of Lórien, and there are small crumbs on it, and a few more crumbs in the grass. And see! There are some pieces of cut cord lying nearby!"  
  
{What is this?}  
{What does this mean?}  
{Orcs?}  
  
"And here is the knife that cut them!" said Gimli. He stooped and drew out of a tussock, into which some heavy foot had trampled it, a short jagged blade. The haft from which it had been snapped was beside it. "It was an orc-weapon," he said, holding it gingerly, and looking with disgust at the carved handle.  
  
{So horrible…what is it?}  
{Orcs, princeling, you know that…}  
{Hobbits…i periannath!} (The hobbits!}  
{Are you certain?}  
{They…they have to be, they have to be alive…of course they are, they left a clue! See? I knew they were hiding Estel! How did they get so far, do you know?}  
{Nay, little prince, why the cord then?}  
{I…think…}  
  
Frustration and confusion building up for days, finally exploding beyond any mask he could have built.   
  
"Well, here is the strangest riddle that we have yet found!" exclaimed Legolas. "A bound prisoner escapes both from the Orcs and from the surrounding horsemen. He then stops, while still in the open, and cuts his bonds with an orc-knife. But how and why? For if his legs were tied, how did he walk? And if his arms were tied, how did he use the knife? And if neither were tied, why did he cut the cords at all? Being pleased with his skill, he then sat down and quietly ate some waybread! That at least is enough to show that he was a hobbit, without the mallorn-leaf. After that, I suppose, he turned his arms into wings and flew away singing into the trees. It should be easy to find him: we only need wings ourselves!"  
  
The sarcastic tone in his voice, surprised even him, and Aragorn looked at him with concern. Legolas looked away and stared at the mallorn-leaf instead.  
  
"What have you to say, Aragorn, to the reading of Legolas. Can you better it?" Gimli said and the ranger looked his way.  
  
"Maybe, I could," said Aragorn, smiling, trying to make it light. Worried, beyond his words, for he had seen his mask being replaced just after the elf spoke. "There are some other signs near at hand that you have not considered…"  
  
Aragorn spoke, and Legolas did not listen.   
  
{Why I cannot hear well anymore? Why must I struggle to even see straight, now? Not grief, I am told…then what?}  
  
{Guilt}  
  
{I will have only more guilt if I fail them once more, and these limitations shall make me fail}  
  
{You were failing well before this, little Prince}  
  
Aragorn and Gimli moved closer to Fangorn and Legolas followed, silently. He heard the song of the words and found it not to be evil as the tales went.  
  
Talking quietly with Gimli, he looked at the sad trees with longing.  
  
"It is old, very old," said the Elf. "So old that almost I feel young again, as I have not felt since I journeyed with you children." Legolas saw Aragorn smile at that, and he wanted to join him…but could not. "It is old and full of memory. I could have been happy here, if I had come in days of peace."  
  
{Had I come when I was still sane…}  
  
"I dare say you could," snorted Gimli. "You are a Wood-elf, anyway, though Elves of any kind are strange folk. Yet you comfort me. Where you go, I will go…"  
  
{Not a good model to follow, dear friend}  
  
They came at length to the steep abrupt end of Treebeard's Hill and looked up at the rock-wall with its rough steps leading to the high shelf. Gleams of sun were striking through the hurrying clouds, and the forest now looked less grey and drear.  
  
{Suffocating forest…beautiful forest that will kill me}  
{Not yet, princeling}  
  
"Let us go up and look about us!" said Legolas, angry inside when he knew he had not thought those words, but were still being spoken by him. "I will feel my breath short. I should like to taste a freer air for a while."  
  
They climbed and Legolas looked around, answering when spoken to, and unknowingly voicing his thoughts.  
"Yet here we are-and nicely caught in the net," said Legolas. "Look!"  
  
{I feel dread…anticipation… who is it that draws closer?}  
  
"Look at what?" said Gimli.  
"There in the trees."  
"Where? I have not elf-eyes."  
"Hush! Speak more softly! Look!" said Legolas pointing. "Down in the wood, back in the Way that we have just come. It is he. Cannot you see him, passing from tree to tree?"  
"I see, I see now!" hissed Gimli. "Look, Aragorn! Did I not warn you? There is the old man. All in dirty grey rags: that is why I could not see him at first."  
  
{My heart is speeding, what is this?}  
{You shall see}  
{Nay! Not again!}  
{Just wait little prince}  
{Nay…who is it?}  
{Just wait}  
  
At that moment the old man quickened his pace and came with surprising speed to the foot of the rock-wall. Then suddenly he looked up, while they stood motionless looking down. There was no sound.  
  
{Who…who…please…I need answers…}  
  
They could not see his face: he was hooded, and above the hood he wore a wide-brimmed hat, so that all his features were over-shadowed, except for the end of his nose and his grey beard. Yet it seemed to Aragorn that he caught the gleam of eyes keen and bright from within the shadow of the hooded brows.  
At last the old man broke the silence. "Well met indeed, my friends," he said in a soft voice.  
  
And Legolas froze.  
  
To be continued. 


	13. Wishes

Disclaimer: I you think LOTR is mine; my cousin is a very good therapist that can help you.  
  
Author notes: fanfiction.net hates me, so I couldn't check if I had any reviews on the last two chapters I posted; but please R&R, for those nice little lines you write, make me happy all day.  
  
English is my second language so I apologize for any grammar or spelling mistakes made on this story. Elvish is the way I believe it to be, most likely mistaken. Quotes are taken from the book…and… uh…I love to get reviews?  
  
Master in Deceiving  
By Yours Truly  
  
"Well met indeed, my friends," he said in a soft voice. "I wish to speak to you. Will you come down or shall I come up?" Without waiting for an answer he began to climb.  
  
The elf with wide blue eyes stared at the old man, without moving a muscle. Apparently frozen on the spot.  
  
"Now!" said Gimli. "Stop him, Legolas"  
  
{Cannot…this is…who is…my bow?}  
  
"Did I not say that I wished to speak to you?" said the old man. "Put away that bow, Master Elf!"  
  
{Nay…why did I dropped my weapons…I need them…defense…I must defend them…old man…who is…what is happening?}  
  
The man seemed to look at him for a moment, but Legolas could not see his eyes, shadowed by his hood, as they were. The ancient gaze, however, seemed to burn a hole right through him, burning him, making him dizzy…holding him still.  
  
{Answers…please…answers…I will not fight, I will not…just…why am I alone, again?}  
  
"And you, Master Dwarf, pray take your hand from your axe-haft, till I am up! You will not need such arguments."  
  
Gimli started and then stood still as stone, close to Legolas. The elf barely noticed; his whole being focused on the form of the man in front them. His heart was speeding, his breathing was silent, yet too fast for an elf, and his every muscle seemed made of stone. He looked like a marble statue, touched barely by some inner light of his own, which was being shadowed by a larger form, looming over his frame.  
  
It was an invisible form over him and it was drowning him. Yet the old man saw this, knowing more than the three friends in front of him, he knew there was even closer danger than the ones they awaited to face.  
  
"Well met, I say again!" said the old man, coming towards them. When he was a few feet away, he stood, stooping over his staff, with his head thrust forward, peering at them from under his hood. "And what may you be doing in these parts? An Elf, a Man, and a Dwarf, all clad in elvish fashion. No doubt there is a tale worth hearing behind it all. Such things are not often seen here." His knowing gaze traveled into each of the faces before him, resting finally on Aragorn, when he spoke.  
  
But Legolas heard nothing, his mind whirling while his body stood frozen.  
  
{Answers}  
{Murderer}  
{Correct all your wrongs}  
{Boromir son of Denethor}   
{A threat in the wind}   
{Voice of the rings}  
{The pull of need}  
{The pull of power}  
{The ambition}  
{The necessity}  
{Whatever is the matter?}  
{Fire}  
{The gate}  
{Is coming}  
{Fly, you fools!}  
{Ai! Ai!}   
{A Balrog! A Balrog is come!}  
{You cannot pass}  
{Elendil! Gondor!}  
{Fly! Run! Must get out, must leave, a Balrog, fire, fire}   
{Anno i cunn, anno i cunn, anno i cunn, anno i cunn} (Give the prince)  
{i beleg pen} (The great one)  
{Anno i beleg pen, anno i callon, ae al i talt cunn} (Give the great one, give the hero, if not the insecure prince)  
  
"Well, well, maybe I can give you some news about that. But why are we standing? Your errand, you see, is no longer as urgent as you thought. Let us sit down and be more at ease." The old man was saying, when focus returned into Legolas. He suddenly could move again while the ancient one sat down in low flat stone.  
  
{Well, well}  
{What is this?}  
{Cannot be}  
{Not possible}  
{Elbereth…not possible…}  
{Anno i beleg pen} (Give the great one)  
  
With a shout in the midst of his internal struggle, Legolas aimed and shot an arrow to the sky, with all his ability, willing his body to do something that he was capable of controlling. The arrow flew high into the air, vanishing in a flash of flame.  
  
{Flame…}  
{A Balrog has come!}  
  
"Mithrandir!" He cried, unbelieving voice, face a mask of unhidden shock and hidden fear "Mithrandir!"  
  
"Well met, I say to you again. Legolas!" said the old man gently, seeing the obvious, as well as the hidden. Having seen on previous nights the effect that circumstances had had on the young elf.  
  
Legolas, as well as the other stared openly at him. . Between wonder, joy, and fear they stood and found no words to say.  
  
At last Aragorn stirred, his eyes shinning, his heart light as the shadow of the doubt finally left him.  
  
Legolas did nothing the others did not. Now the ranger could be certain of it.  
  
"Gandalf!" he said. "Beyond all hope you return to us in our need! What veil was over my sight? Gandalf!" Gimli said nothing, hut sank to his knees, shading his eyes.  
  
"Gandalf," the old man repeated, as if recalling from old memory a long disused word. "Yes, that was the name. I was Gandalf."  
  
"Yes, you may still call me Gandalf," he said, and the voice was the voice of their old friend and guide. "Get up, my good Gimli! No blame to you, and no harm done to me." Grey eyes turned to the blond elf, yet his gaze went unnoticed.  
  
{Fly, you fools!}  
{Gone}  
{Returned}  
{Not the same}  
{Never the same}  
{Who is he?}  
  
{What is this?}  
  
"Indeed my friends, none of you have any weapon that could hurt me. Be merry! We meet again. At the turn of the tide. The great storm is coming, but the tide has turned."  
  
{Meet again, after mortals have died and immortals have surrounded}   
{Mithrandir …estel gwannant taen io, henia, dae ned nîn muin meldir, ha car al cuinar ab gûr} (Gandalf… hope died long ago, understand, shadow of my dear friend, it does not live after death)  
  
Past scenes flashed behind closed eyes as the words being spoken sounded blurred to him, and his body began working, once more, on its own accord.  
  
****  
'Mithrandir fern' (Mithrandir is dead) Legolas managed to say, before his voice failed him and his tears fell faster.   
  
Haldir placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, whispering softly 'Ha thiai be caeda' (it seems like a lie). Legolas merely nodded  
  
****  
  
{It was a lie}  
{Liar}  
{Suffering}  
{Grief}  
{All false}  
  
****  
In darkness so intense, it drowned; he could discern a shape moving. He could see a shape fighting another figure…a much larger figure. And then he saw the shape take form, and the darkness part to let it shine through.  
  
Mithrandir dressed in white stood there, smiling at him.  
  
****  
  
"Yes, I am white now," said Gandalf now, turning to look at Legolas for a fleeting moment…the elf felt…cornered…by that intense gaze "Indeed I…"   
  
{Murderer}  
{Right all your wrongs}  
{You murdered Mithrandir}  
{Never the same}  
  
{Back from the darkness, returned from mortal death…never the same}  
  
"The eagle!" Legolas heard himself saying, as he stared to the many images in his mind. "I have seen an eagle high and far off: the last time was three days ago, above the Emyn Muil."   
Legolas focused once more, when he saw Gandalf staring at him strangely, as if he noticed that Legolas had not spoken, even as he answered his words. "Yes," said Gandalf, "that was Gwaihir the Windlord, who rescued me from Orthanc. I sent him before me to watch the River and gather tidings. His sight is keen, but he cannot see all that passes under hill and tree. Some things he has seen, and others I have seen myself."  
  
When ancient eyes searched the old blue ones that betrayed a youthful face, he found not his friend in there. But only a blank stare met his.   
  
"Not alone," said Legolas, interrupting Gandalf. "We think that Sam went with him." And this time, Aragorn turned to face his friend, for his voice sounded hollow, once more.   
  
"Did he!" said Gandalf, and there was a gleam in his eye and a smile on his face, even as he looked into endless pools of iced grief. "Did he indeed? It is news to me, yet it does not surprise me. Good! Very good! You lighten my heart. You must tell me more. Now sit by me and tell me the tale of your journey."  
  
The companions sat on the ground at his feet, and Aragorn took up the tale. For a long while Gandalf said nothing, and he asked no questions. His hands were spread upon his knees, and his eyes were closed.  
  
{Right all your wrongs} His elven voice rang clear in the midst of confusion.  
  
{What wrongs?} Another voice suddenly came, and asked with a strong will that he no longer possessed.  
  
{Death... upon you} His voice said, speaking on its own, for those were not his thoughts.   
  
{How can it be? Immortal beings do not fear death, nor does death chases after them, for Eru did not planned it this way}   
  
{Who speaks…?} His voice said again, but this was him, voice weaker, tired…almost lost.  
  
{The truth. The one you need to hear}  
{Who speaks? Aragorn?}  
{Trusts you, is worried for you}  
{Gimli?}  
{Searches for your friendship}  
{Father?}  
{Is proud of his son, more than ever before}  
{Boromir?}  
{Thought of you as his brother in arms}  
{…Mithrandir?}  
{Lives}  
  
{Pretty Lies}  
{Is all you've heard since Moria, my young friend} Mithrandir's voice kept whispering kept fighting with his own voice…the voice he had fighting until he could no more.  
  
Struggling to escape it, his eyes focused, and he ignored confused lines of thought.   
  
"You have not said all that you know or guess, Aragorn my friend," he said quietly, giving the man a knowing look; that Legolas noticed uneasily. "Poor Boromir! I could not see what happened to him. It was a sore trial for such a man: a warrior, and a lord of men…"  
  
{Poor Boromir, indeed, killed by his 'brother in arms'}  
  
{Nay, young elf. Killed by dangers beyond anyone's control. Or do you believe yourself of such power?}  
  
{I believe myself of such destruction}  
  
"…And he does not know of the quarrel between his servants and the Orcs of Mordor; nor does he know of the Winged Messenger."  
  
"The Winged Messenger!" cried Legolas suddenly, wide eyes once again focused. "I shot at him with the bow of Galadriel above Sarn Gebir, and I felled him from the sky. He filled us all with fear. What new terror is this?"  
  
"One that you cannot slay with arrows," said Gandalf in a gentle tone. "You only slew his steed. It was a good deed;" he gave him a small smile and Legolas turned away from it, feeling unworthy of seeing his friend smile once more "…but the Rider was soon horsed again. For he was a Nazgûl, one of the Nine, who ride now upon winged steeds…"  
  
{Not even archery can protect you, now, and what else can you do, little prince?}  
{He can save his friends}  
{Oh, can he, now? How, if he cannot help himself?}  
{Legolas can fight, as he was…}  
{…And no longer is, and no longer will}  
  
{Speaks who? Who is so sure of it … that has been torturing me?}  
  
{Yourself} {The shadow}  
  
{Fight…it sounds like too much}  
  
{For you} {'Tis not you}  
  
{Mithrandir returns from a battle I did not fought to fight with me on a battle mine alone}  
  
{Weak} {Not alone yours, you have made it so}  
  
{Boromir…Boromir and Mithrandir and the...}  
  
"But the hobbits!" Legolas broke in. "We have come far to seek them, and you seem to know where they are. Where are they now?"  
  
"With Treebeard and the Ents," said Gandalf, still looking at the elf.  
  
{Failed them}  
{Could do nothing more, young elf. What else, other than your best?}  
{Everything I had}  
{And fade yourself?}  
{Aye}  
  
"…I thought they were only a memory of ancient days, if indeed they were ever more than a legend of Rohan." Aragorn was saying and Legolas startled back into the present.  
  
"A legend of Rohan!" cried Legolas. "Nay, every Elf in Wilderland has sung songs of the old Onodrim and their long sorrow. Yet even among us they are only a memory. If I were to meet one still walking in this world, then indeed I should feel young again! But Treebeard: that is only a rendering of Fangorn into the Common Speech; yet you seem to speak of a person. Who is this Treebeard?"  
  
{Who is this Treebeard?}  
{Where are the hobbits?}  
{Where did you go Mithrandir?}  
{Why am I the only one who heard Moria speak?}  
{Are you really my friend? Are you really back?}  
  
{Never the same}  
  
{Are you never going to be the same?}  
  
"Ah! Now you are asking much," said Gandalf to him, and Legolas startled, looked into his eyes. "The little that I know of his long slow story would make a tale for which we have no time now. Treebeard is Fangorn, the guardian of the forest; he is the oldest of the Ents, the oldest living thing that still walks beneath the Sun upon this Middle-earth. I hope indeed, Legolas, that you may yet meet him…"  
  
{Anything to make the shadow leave you, young elf}  
  
{Shadow?}  
  
"…A thing is about to happen which has not happened since the Elder Days: the Ents are going to wake up and find that they are strong."  
"What will they do?" asked Legolas in astonishment.  
"I do not know," said Gandalf. "I do not think they know themselves. I wonder."  
  
{Failure}  
  
And Legolas fought, but with strength weakened by shock and weariness of earlier inner battles, he soon felt himself falling, and falling…'till something outside called his attention, and he regained sudden control.  
  
"Then are we not to see the merry young hobbits again?" said Legolas, saddened beyond words at the mere thought of such a failure.  
"I did not say so," Gandalf calmly. "Who knows? Have patience. Go where you must go, and hope! To Edoras! I go thither also."   
  
{Where must I go?}  
{Back to Moria}  
{How is that, if my friend has returned?}  
{Has he?}  
{He stands before my very…}  
{Does he?}  
  
"To Legolas she sent this word:  
  
Legolas Greenleaf long under tree  
In joy thou hast lived. Beware of the Sea!  
If thou hearest the cry of the gull on the shore,  
Thy heart shall then rest in the forest no more."  
  
{You are doomed}  
{You are dead}  
{You are useless, now}  
{You are to die}  
{Death has not given up on you}  
{In Mandos Halls the Valar shall wait for you, for punishment you shall receive}  
  
{I wish to…to…}  
  
{To die, for you wish has already been made}  
  
"Then she sent me no message?" said Gimli and bent his head.  
"Dark are her words," said Legolas, "and little do they mean to those that receive them."  
  
{Little more than confirm night terrors}  
  
"That is no comfort," said Gimli.  
  
"What then?" said Legolas "Would you have her speak openly to you of your death?"  
  
{You would, little prince}  
{Nay! I…}  
{…You would have her speak of it, for your wish shall be granted. Death shall come}  
  
And somehow, the idea did not sound as appealing as it did, once before. But it sounded much closer.   
  
To be continued.  
  
Wow, this was long...once again, I hope not to have disappointed anyone. 


	14. Light of Your Eyes

Disclaimer: I doubt I look like an old, English…dead…author. So no, not mine.  
  
Author Notes: So many reviews!!! @_@ If I *ever* get a hundred; I think I'm going to die from sheer happiness! …*Hint, hint*… lol! Anyway, thank you to every single one of those who have reviewed, and even to those who have not, but have still read my story.  
  
English is my second language, so I apologize for any grammar or spelling mistakes I could have made. Elvish is the way I believe it to be, most likely mistaken, quotes are taken from the book, with thoughts of my own added, of course…and…R&R, please?  
  
Master in Deceiving  
By Yours Truly  
  
"I see a great smoke," said Legolas. "What may that be?"  
  
{Your own mind}  
  
"Battle and war!" said Gandalf. "Ride on!"  
  
And with those words, the company galloped towards the Gap of Rohan. They rode on through sunset, and slow dusk, and gathering night. When at last they halted and dismounted, even Aragorn was stiff and weary.  
Only a little time of rest was allowed, and the dwarf was quick to enjoy it fully, stretching on the floor and sleeping soundly, Aragorn lay down, looking up at the sky, and Legolas lay on his blankets, looking asleep to everyone.  
  
But he was not.  
  
{Mithrandir is watching over us}  
{He will kill you all, for he is not Gandalf. Do you honestly believe your dear friend shall rise from death to redeem you of the guilt?}  
{Why should I distrust? I am so tired of having to fight for everything…so tired…}  
{Then sleep, little Prince. Sleep, you shall be fine, and you shall rest}  
{Sleep? I have not done so in years, it seems}  
{And here is your chance}  
{Dangers…}  
{Sleep, Legolas, go to sleep}  
{I should not…}  
  
Gandalf stood, leaning on his staff, gazing into the darkness, east and west. Then sharp eyes focused on his companions, resting finally on the seemingly resting form of the elf.  
  
"Rest would do all of us good; yet, if sleep is not your friend on this night, then rise, dear Legolas, and see the moon you love" He whispered gently, startling the fair one, and making him turn to face the powerful Istari.   
  
{So tired…}  
{Sleep}  
  
The elf glanced at his friend's face, and nodded mutely, standing from his position on the ground and glancing at the sky. His eyes going focused and unfocused as he looked into the beautiful night.  
  
{Losta} (Sleep)  
{Rest}  
{Forget everything}  
{Just relax}  
{Nothing is going to happen}  
{Merely a little rest}  
  
"Mithrandir?" His whisper broke the silence suddenly, and Gandalf turned to face him. "Who are you?"   
  
The wizard did not look surprised at the question, glancing around and spotting no living thing, he walked closer to the younger elf, and touched his shoulder. "I am Gandalf the Grey, now white," he said with a small smile "I am still your friend, that has gone through some serious trials, and has come out victorious. I am more powerful than I was. Power changes us all, Legolas. And to me, it did this" He signaled himself, and sat down in the ground. "Yet, I sense, you ask beyond your words, Prince of Mirkwood"  
The elf sat next to him and did nothing but stare blankly at him for some silent moments.   
  
'Im pedo atahan nîn pith pân i annan´(I speak beyond my words all the time)  
  
{When I speak}  
  
'Man car lye pedo ned si?' (What do you speak of now?)  
  
{Of death}  
  
'Ned lya' (Of you) Legolas whispered, not looking at Gandalf 'Lya thia delu, si. Al be Mithrandir carant' (You seem dangerous, now. Not like Mithrandir did)  
  
{Not like the friend you murdered ever did}  
  
'Ae Im lothron pedon hen, neth cunn' (If I may say this, young Prince) 'Im thia fair, si…a o an breitho' (You seem mortal, now…and about to break)  
  
{I am} {You are}  
{But how did he know?}  
  
Surprised eyes turned to his, and his controlled emotions almost slipped…but they remained inside.  
'Lya lothron' (You may) He answered finally, in a defeated voice. 'Im ingon lya ad' (I suppose you are back) He said softly, and Gandalf nodded his head, watching him with concern.  
'An maer?' (For good?)  
Another nod.  
  
Legolas then looked at him, and Mithrandir almost gasped out loud at the uncontrolled emotions suddenly free in those blue pools.  
  
"All right Mithrandir." He said softly "When is Boromir going to be back? Is it soon? I am beginning to miss his company"  
  
Ancient eyes softened and the old man moved closer to the elf, forcing him to look him in the eyes. "You know the answer to that, Legolas. Do not hide, in your mind"  
  
"Is it soon?"  
"Legolas…"  
"He was teaching swordplay to Merry and to Pippin. The two little ones were doing very good; he said to me…you remember do you not? Those merry hobbits are great company for such a dark journey; I wonder where did they run off to, now? Did Boromir go with them? I believe you were with them…"  
"Prince Legolas, you already have all the answers to those questions, and they are hard to face, young one. But they are important ones, you must recall them, so that we may continue on this journey to save this land"  
Unfocused eyes went wide. "You are right Mithrandir" Legolas whispered, surprised. "How could I have forgotten?"  
"'Tis all right, Legolas, this is a hard journey to all involved. You are carrying extra weight, in this travel"  
The elf did not seem to hear his words "I have still not found the little ones! Frodo and Sam are incredible, I have not seen any sign of their presence…Pippin and Merry are great as well, but the trace they leave is like an orc trail…Pippin even dropped his Lórien leaf! Poor hobbit. Aragorn kept it, so we can give it back to him when we find his hiding place" He seemed to look around, as if waiting for the hobbits to giggle around some tree "Boromir has still not returned, I hope he has not gotten lost, for we have traveled a long way from the river on which he sails…I wonder if he has seen the hobbits…"  
  
"Legolas!" Another voice interrupted the elf's speech and Gandalf's worried observation of the prince. "Come here, my friend"  
With graceful movement, Legolas moved to where he was being called to, and sat on the ground next to Aragorn. "Yes, Estel?" he said softly, looking into brown eyes with unfocused blue ones.  
"Tell me something, Legolas," the man whispered gently "Do you know where we are?"  
The prince frowned, and nodded. "Of course I know, Estel. Why do you ask that?"  
"Could you please tell me, Legolas?" His voice was gentle, and Mithrandir watched quietly, waiting for an answer from the elf.  
"What is this, Aragorn?"  
"Please, Legolas"  
"We are in…in Moria? Nay wait, 'tis not Moria…it is dark though…Parth Galen…were we not there…Nay, nay, we traveled…" Wide eyes turned to Aragorn as the human sat up on the ground. "Where are we, Estel?"  
  
Aragorn looked into dull eyes for the light of his friend, as he had done the other night.  
  
And turned to face Gandalf in fear when he did not found it.  
  
To be continued  
Short? Bad? Let me know!! 


	15. Battle of Friendship

Disclaimer: Even my copy of the book, is from my brother. So, I own nothing.  
  
Author notes: Oh my…*passes out with a big smile* so many pretty reviews!!! Thank you everyone, you make my whole day. I suppose the last chapter was a bit of a cliffhanger, but look at it this way…it was 1AM -_- and I had early classes today. This chapter has some action on it, but it's…bad, cause I do not know how to write action @_@ lol.  
  
English is my second language, so I apologize for any grammar or spelling mistakes. Elvish is the way I believe it to be. Quotes are taken from the book, with lines of my own, of course. I love reviews :) Lyrics are from the unbelievably good song "And then there was silence" By Blind Guardian. Wish it were mine!! But 'tis not, so…*sigh*  
  
And to answer some reviews I've gotten...when did I ever say he was mentally ill? :)  
  
Master in Deceiving  
By Yours Truly  
  
{I am scared}  
{Poor little Prince}  
{This is not my mind}  
{Aye, it is}  
{The light's gone away}  
{That was a very long time ago. That you hide from reality does not make it go away}  
{I still had life, I still had hope}  
{And now, you have nothing. You wished for nothing, you wished for death, and it shall be granted…piece by piece}  
  
"Legolas?" Aragorn's voice seemed a little louder than necessary, yet the elf in front of him did not even flinch…and neither did the sleeping dwarf.  
  
"Where are we, Estel?" His soft voice said softly, his eyes watching the man's every move. But the blue orbs were still unfocused. "Where are we?"  
  
"Legolas Greenleaf" Gandalf called softly, and with a confused frown, the elf's face turned to face him. "You know where we are, as you well as you know your own name. You know what has happened, and you also know, that this is not the time to hide. Come prince of Mirkwood, fight this"  
  
{Losta} (Sleep)  
  
"Fight what, Mithrandir? Are there orcs around?"  
"Legolas, come out, 'tis not you who speaks" Mithrandir commanded, as Aragorn sat next to his friend, trying to reach him with his gaze.  
  
"Who else, can it be, Gandalf?" The prince suddenly snapped, hissing the words out with anger worth of Sauron, presenting them with the same peaceful face of everyday. "I, unlike you, have not died and returned. I have in fact, never left"  
  
{Let go}  
  
"Yes, you have, Legolas. You left your own body once before, and I pulled you back. And you almost left us in Lothlórien, almost abandoned us" Aragorn answered, trying to bring out a response from neutral features, or see some kind of light in foggy eyes.  
  
Nothing came.  
  
"Ask Boromir if that had not been for the best of us all"  
  
Grey eyes widened in realization. "You do not think that you did something to kill…"  
"I do not think such things" the elf responded calmly "I am certain of them. I heard it all, a threat in the wind, the pull of power called, and Boromir answered, and I never told you this, did I Estel? Look at me, and tell me, did I tell you that?" His voice was colder than ice.  
  
Aragorn flinched slightly, and got angered when he saw no light in his eyes or any expression on his face.   
  
"Nay, you did not"  
  
{Estel, nay!}  
{Losta, cunn, losta si} (Sleep, Prince, sleep now)  
  
"Because I am weak, because I was afraid; you would kill me, you would despise me. I should not have worried, for I know you already do. I know how much you wish to draw your sword right now, and slice my body with its sharp blade. For the Valar Aragorn, do it already, for I will kill you all"  
  
{I do not wish to hurt you…not hurt my friends…}  
{Yet, you still do; you hurt them all, you kill your friends. You do}  
{And no matter what I do…I always hurt my friends}  
  
Aragorn's body tensed, and Mithrandir's eyes hardened, turning his gaze away from Legolas. "Aragorn, he is being defeated. Shadow is starting to take over completely, he is beginning to fade, do not hear his words, and search for your friend" he paused, and placed a hand on Aragorn's shoulder "the one that sits in fronts of you, is your enemy, and he has your friend"  
  
Aragorn's eyes roamed over the familiar features of the elf, and noticed the first edges of the mask start to fall, after only a few moments of observation, the prince's features had twisted into such a salvage expression, that Aragorn could not deny, that this was not Legolas.  
  
"I refuse to hear you, Legolas of Mirkwood"  
  
{Estel…}  
  
"For I know who you are"  
  
{So dark…is swallowing me whole, Estel I am drowning…}  
  
'Daro, gûr' (Stop, death) 'Lya al Legolas' (You are not Legolas) The man said firmly.  
  
{Nay…al enni} (Nay…not me)  
  
A smile that twisted the beautiful elven features into something…horrible…touched his lips. "I was not" He placed a cold hand on the mortal shoulder "I am now"  
  
In a haze of anger and helplessness, Aragorn nodded and stood up from the ground, unsheathing his sword slowly, and staring at the blade in the moonlight. "Then I shall free my friend"  
  
{I do not wish to die…I do not wish to die}  
{You cannot go back now…}  
{I must correct my wrongs}  
{And in this, you shall, for your blood, or your friend's, shall stain this cursed land}  
  
Legolas' face smiled, and he nodded as well, pulling his elven knifes with grace and certainty, he moved farther away from camp. "I warned you, Estel" his voice whispered, "I am slaughtering you all". Not a trace of remorse could be found in his stance.   
  
Gandalf went to talk with Aragorn, but a glance from the human stopped him from intervening.  
  
Aragorn walked in front of Legolas, and turned on his heels, angered eyes meeting his. He drew his sword and prepared for the fight.   
  
Legolas did not hesitate, attacking first. Knifes drawn, he lurched forward and with a strength Aragorn did not thought him to posses, he avoided the sword with no more than one knife, slicing a minor wound on the human's arm with the other. Blood poured from the cut, and Legolas jumped backwards, easily, as Aragorn instinctively attacked with his sword, it had been aimed straight at his heart.   
  
The elf took on a defensive stance as Aragorn moved closer, and with both knifes; he avoided the attack that came his way. Dizzyingly fast, his legs carried him a step away from Aragorn. With both weapons, he attacked his friend, barely missing to stab him to his chest when the human moved quickly away.  
  
Glancing around with an amused smile, as if he were playing, Legolas moved towards Aragorn, and the man was about to attack when suddenly Legolas was no longer visible. Quickly turning around, he did not see him, and a melodic voice sang from nowhere.  
  
"Don't you think it's time to stop the chase?  
Around the ring  
Just stop running, running  
'Round the ring  
Don't you know that fate has been decided  
By the gods?  
Feel the distance, distance  
Out of reach"   
  
And there was Legolas again, smiling at him, standing straight and strong. Aragorn attacked and managed to touch his sword to the elf's shoulder, before Legolas jumped away and avoided any further injury.  
  
"Kill me Aragorn, you wish to do it, you wish to attack me with all you have, to slaughter the one that has murdered Boromir, to punish me from making Mithrandir suffer" Legolas taunted as he avoided another blow, and delivered another quick cut to Aragorn's forearm. "You wish to kill the one that has murdered the fellowship, the same that shall bring you all down with him" His voice went softer then, and Aragorn's eyes stared Legolas down as the elf spoke "Just let me die"  
  
Aragorn moved closer, and closer, Legolas did not move from his spot. A sudden movement caught the elf off guard, and he found Aragorn's sword to his throat. He smiled at him, and Aragorn hissed out the words he spoke. "No more light for you, no more trees, no more home, no more life…"  
  
{Nay, Estel…Elbereth, please, Aragorn…Estel…kill me…}  
  
The point of Aragorn's sword drew blood, and then Legolas reacted, ducking to avoid the sword, he went to stab with both knives. Aragorn almost received the wounds, but he managed to skip away.  
  
"I have none of those things, now Estel"  
  
Aragorn attacked, and Legolas held his weapons strong to avoid the sword. "You do not," Aragorn gasped out, trying to force the sword away from the knives that had it intertwined above the elf's head. "Legolas does"  
  
{Not me, not me, not me, not me}  
  
{Never you}  
  
A quick stroke, and the blade dripped blood. Knives fell to the ground as the author of the attack looked on at what his actions caused.  
  
Legolas looked up, and then sank to his knees, as the wound on his shoulder dripped with blood. He dropped his head, and started shaking it, as if to deny some unspoken words.  
  
"Nay" He hissed out, and Aragorn looked at him warily "I do not think I have those things either"  
  
Sword falling to the ground, Aragorn sank to his knees next to the elf, and took a hold of slim shoulders, as he had done before. "Legolas"  
  
Clear blue eyes looked at him, and the mask started to fall back in place, slowly, concealing the anguish on his face, but never the one that still remained on his gaze. "I believe that is my name, Estel" he said softly.  
  
Aragorn sighed in relief, and gently removed the elf's hand from his wound. It was not deep, and it should heal soon enough. He smiled at his friend and forcing the hesitant eyes to meet his, he spoke. "Legolas Greenleaf of Mirkwood. You are not a murderer…Boromir was murdered by orcs, and I do not see you as one of them. You have *not* murdered, or even betrayed anyone, as you so strongly seem to believe"  
  
"Estel?"  
  
"Aye?"  
  
"'Tis so dark…"  
  
"No, Legolas. 'Tis never dark…open your eyes, and pull yourself back. Look up, see the moon, watch the stars, there is light, and the stronger one is the one you carry"  
  
"Aragorn?"  
  
"Tell me?"  
  
"I cannot see you"  
  
Aragorn took a hold of his chin, and lifted his face, watching his eyes carefully. "Do you want to?"  
  
"I'm afraid…"  
  
"Do not be"  
  
"Failure…"  
  
"You have not failed us once, Legolas. You do not wish to start now, and let Gandalf down, do you?"  
  
The elf shook his head silently.  
  
"You have never failed me, prince of Mirkwood. Believe me, young one, you would know if you had" Mithrandir's voice whispered gently and Legolas lifted his face to see him.   
  
"I suppose you are back"  
  
"To stay, young elf. I am here"  
  
Legolas nodded again and stood up, walking to the camp with his back turned to his friends. He waited for them to catch up with him silently.  
  
"Aragorn?"  
  
"What is it, Legolas?"  
  
"I can see you…but I know; it will not last"   
  
"What makes you say that? What do you feel, Legolas?" Aragorn asked worriedly, turning to face his friend. He sat down on the floor of the camp, and Legolas did the same, allowing the man to treat his wound.   
  
"Nothing. I feel nothing" was the whisper that answered him, as the mask was replaced finally. And the normalcy on his face was unnerving.  
  
There was no more talk that night, and Aragorn had no more than one hour to rest, while both, the Istari and the elf had none. The night was barred with long clouds, fleeting on a chill wind, when they arose again. Under the cold moon they went on once more, as swift as by the light of day.  
  
To be continued 


	16. Aislated

Author Notes: Oh. My. God. Fanfiction.net hates me, really bad…I had 101 reviews and suddenly only 91…*cries brokenly*  
  
*Wipes tears with sleeve* Thank you everyone who has reviewed!! It is still; far more than I could have hoped for…please don't stop?  
  
English is my second language so I apologize for any spelling or grammar mistakes made on the story, quotes have been taken from the book and the elvish is pretty much the way I think it goes.  
  
I also apologize for the lousy chapter that preceded this one; I am hoping this will be better.  
  
Master in Deceiving  
By Yours Truly  
  
"Strange names you give indeed!" The guard at the gates of Edoras spoke "But I will report them as you bid and learn my master's will," he paused and gave the remaining fellowship a long glance. "Wait here a little while, and will bring you such answer as seems good to him. Do not hope too much! These are dark days."   
  
He went swiftly away, leaving the strangers in the watchful keeping of his comrades.   
  
{They look at you, as the rat you are}  
{They do not know who I am}  
{Do they need to know you? With a simple glance to your face, they can see the traitor inside of you. Do you wish to stop that?}  
{Nay…I will not surrender again. I am in control}  
{Or so you seem to think}  
  
Legolas closed his eyes for the briefest of seconds, and focused his gaze on his friends. Aragorn glanced around silently, as if someone who has seen the place before now. Gandalf stood calmly, gently patting Shadowfax, as the proud horse remained still at his side, uncaring of the awe-filled gazes of those surrounding them.  
  
He quickly averted his eyes from Gimli though, who he knew, was aware of more than what he let on.   
  
Gimli glared back at the men whose gazes seemed to pierce them, uncomfortable by the stone silence that had fallen over the company, and unhappy for being mistrusted like a mere thief, when their quest had cost them so dearly, all for the safety of the land…this men's land, as well as his own. It did not seem fair. With a quick glance around, the dwarf sighed to himself and just stood there, looking everywhere but to the faces of those men that had offended them with mistrust…even when he knew he could not blame them, for this were indeed dark times, the darkest of his life.   
  
His stony gaze fell on Legolas, and he forgot his train of thought. Since the events of the night before, when he had pretended to be asleep, he was greatly concerned for the elf that he had come to call a friend. The voice of the elf last night had not been Legolas. His words…had not sounded like him. And the tiniest of gazes he had of his face when he had been challenging Aragorn, believing the dwarf asleep, had most definitely not been his friend. When the ranger, elf and wizard had returned to the camp, obviously after some sort of battle, Legolas had answered the ranger with words that almost made Gimli send his sleeping act to the skies, and shake some sense into Legolas.  
  
"What do you feel Legolas?" Aragorn had said  
"Nothing" Legolas had whispered.  
  
And no other voice had followed that word. The ride towards this gate had been a mostly silent one, with Legolas speaking with both, Aragorn and Gandalf quietly, answering some things, and telling some others. He had not spoken to Gimli, though, and the dwarf was starting to think that the elf knew he had been awake the past evening.  
  
It was then, that the guard returned, breaking into everyone's thoughts. "Follow me!" he said. "Théoden gives you leave to enter; but any weapon that you bear; be it only a staff, you must leave on the threshold. The door wardens will keep them."  
  
The dark gates were swung open. The travelers entered, walking in file behind their guide. They found a broad path, paved with hewn stones, now winding upward, now climbing in short flights of well-laid steps.   
  
Legolas looked around as he walked, but saw no more than blurry shapes and fast moving shadows. The scenery was lost on his blue eyes that would have normally marveled at the beauty of such place.  
  
{This is not right…I have heard this to be a beautiful place}  
{You have heard right}  
{Why I cannot see any of it? Only dark shapes move everywhere…}  
{Light hides from shadow}  
{Am I shadow?}  
{Since the moment you doomed the ones you called friends, you are}  
  
Many houses built of wood and many dark doors they passed. Beside the way in a stone channel a stream of clear water flowed, sparkling and chattering. Legolas could hear it; the water, and he wanted to weep, for he was unable to see even the slightest drop of it.   
  
At length they came to the crown of the hill. There stood a high platform above a green terrace, which the elf was unable to see. He did see, however, Aragorn turning to see his reaction to what the elf assumed was a beautiful sight, and he took great care in looking as if he could not get enough of this view. The ranger seemed satisfied with what the mask showed him, and he grinned briefly in his direction, then turned around and walked ahead. The mask remained in place the whole walk.  
  
Up the green terrace went a stair of stone, high and broad, and on either side of the topmost step were stone-hewn sea. There sat other guards, with drawn swords laid upon their knees. Their golden hair was braided on their shoulders the sun was blazoned upon their green shields, their long corslets were burnished bright, and when they rose taller they seemed than mortal men.  
  
{At least I can see them…}  
{It's beauty you're denied…if you must continue to slaughter your friends, then you must not miss the other possible victims…}  
{I will not slaughter anybody…}  
{You already have. Or do you believe the hobbits safe? Do you see Boromir admiring the beauty of this place?}  
{…In Mordor…and dead…}  
{That is right}  
  
"There are the doors before you," said the guide. "I must return now to my duty at the gate. Farewell! And may the Lord of the Mark be gracious to you!"  
  
Legolas heard a murmur, and glanced at the retreating guard.   
  
{Did that man say something?}  
{Nay}  
  
Gandalf stepped forward and Legolas looked at him. Another murmur, he realized, and saw how the guards turned the hilts of their swords towards the travelers in token of peace. A green blur was all he could see on them. Then one of the guards stepped forward and spoke.  
  
Legolas frowned when he heard just a soft whisper, on which he could discern no words.   
  
"I am the Doorward of Théoden," he said, as Legolas struggled to hear. "Háma is my name. Here I must bid you lay aside your weapons before you enter."  
  
{Why is the guard speaking so softly…I can barely hear him…weapons?}  
{Give him your bow, Legolas}  
{What is happening?}  
{It may be the custom of the Mark, to speak so low, little Prince. Remember what the other guard had said about your weapons? Hand your weapons to him}  
  
Legolas gave into the guard's hand his silver-hafted knife, his quiver and his bow. "Keep these well," he said, "for they come from the Golden Wood and the Lady of Lothlórien gave them to me." His voice was steady, his face was normal and his hands did not shake. He did not know if it was happiness or grief what he felt when he realized he was getting better at this with each passing day.  
  
Wonder came into the man's eyes, and he laid the weapons hastily by the wall, as if he feared to handle them. Then he murmured again, and Legolas stopped his face from frowning, and only nodded, for whatever the man had said, had not sounded ill.   
  
He saw Aragorn hesitate and say something, just as softly as the guard spoke.  
  
{This must be some strange custom in these parts. These men have a keen hearing, indeed.}  
{You cannot hear their words, nor see well, can you now, princeling?}  
{Nay, for some reason…am I ill?}  
{You are far better than you deserve to be}  
  
The guard, who had seemed far friendlier than the last ones, was suddenly blocking the way for them and seemed to be challenging Aragorn. Confused he turned to his friends, who were all very focused on what was transpiring.  
  
{How can they hear and I cannot?}  
  
Feeling returned back into him with a speed that made him weak. Fear, was the feeling he now could sense on his every bone...a fear he suppressed as best as he could.  
  
{Are they murderers? Have they betrayed you?}  
  
Gandalf spoke, and the tone of his voice sounded clear on his ears. What his words were he did not know. Legolas began to get alarmed at the defensive stance of Gandalf, and the determined faces that Aragorn and the guard of the gate, now wore. More murmurs of Aragorn and the guard, more things he did not understand. Then another tone broke into the apparent argument.  
  
Legolas panicked. It was Gimli, and any day the elf would have heard his words had they had a mountain between them. Today, the dwarf's words were another of the many whispers, the many low voices, and the many blurry shapes that to him was this castle.  
  
They were allowed to walk into a hall, than to the elven eyes was no more than a cloud of mist. Horrified he realized that one by one the clouds were darkening, and the murmurs slowly began to fade. He stood there, mask in place, eyes focused and back straight, as he was suddenly blind and deaf in the hall of a king he could not see, with friends he could no longer hear, and in a position that would require him to be able to do both.  
  
{Let me out} his voice sounded deafening in the sudden silence  
  
{You are outside}  
{I am blind…I am deaf…I am not outside}  
{'Tis you}  
{But the darkness…}  
{It is all that *you* are allowed to see}  
  
Scared beyond his long years, Legolas stood there, and saw nothing, and heard nothing, did nothing… until he surrendered.  
  
{I must keep up appearances…}  
{You must wear your mask, then}  
{I do not have it on?}  
  
The mere thought of the fear he felt being reflected on his face was terrifying him. Aragorn would send him back…his father would despise him…  
  
{I know not if you do}  
{You go out…I will stay inside}  
{Good, princeling…}  
  
And the elven prince was not there, anymore. Not when the king stood and heard the words of wisdom, not when the food was served, not even when he, Legolas, spoke a few words.  
  
And Gimli saw.  
And Aragorn saw.  
And Gandalf saw.  
  
They had seen enough, for shadow could now be clearly seen on the blue orbs. It was time for war…extremely soon. Sooner than any orc they could battle against, of that they were certain.  
  
To be continued.  
  
Extra author Note (more like question): is this too bad? 


	17. Unrecognizable

Author Notes: Finally I was able to update this!  
  
I want to thank those incredibly nice people who actually sent me e-mail to feedback me so sweetly on this story. It was the best moment of my awful day. I also wish to thank all of those who reviewed here on the page (while it was still possible) your words mean the world to me.  
  
English is my second language so I apologize for any mistakes made on this story. Elvish is the way I believe it to be, most likely mistaken. Quotes are taken from the book, with parts of my own in-between and…please, R&R?  
  
Master in Deceiving  
By Yours Truly  
  
Now men came bearing raiment of war from the king's hoard and they arrayed Aragorn and Legolas in shining mail. Helms too they chose, and round shields: their bosses were overlaid with gold and set with gems, green and red and white.  
  
Legolas was vaguely aware of extra weight being added to his body. Sighing softly to himself, he recognized the weight of armor, and knew it was time for battle. A battle *he* had to be on, not the ghost that he knew was out there with his face right at this moment.   
  
{'Tis time I go outside, now}  
{You believe so, then?}  
{Nay, I know so, and I will not be swayed. War needs a warrior, and the not the façade of one}  
{Nay}  
{I will go}  
{You will...}  
{Si!} (Now!)  
{Impatient, are we not? Very well, princeling... Go to your war, face what you must…just remember one thing}  
{That I am weak?}  
{I do not need remind you of that. Just remember that the only mask you have now, is the one you are denying to use}  
{I shall not risk my friend's lives for an illusion of strength}  
{Not again, you mean?}  
  
Gandalf took no armor, and Gimli was given a cap of iron and leather that fitted well upon his round head; and a small shield he also took. It bore the running horse, white upon green, which was the emblem of the House of Eorl.  
  
"May it keep you well!" said Théoden. "It was made for me in Thengel's day, while still I was a boy"  
  
Legolas fought his way back, just in time to hear those words, and in days long forgotten he knew he would have smiled at the king's words. Now, he could not even begin to try. Laughter was light, and light did not seem to touch him any longer.  
  
  
The elf saw Aragorn staring into his face and lifted his fair head to meet grey eyes. But before anything could be seen by each of them, the ranger's attention was pulled from the elf towards a beautiful, and obviously interested, young woman, who was serving the wine and hailing each of them. Éowyn had paused with Aragorn and seemed to tremble slightly. Legolas sighed sadly for the disappointment he was sure she was going to feel later on.   
  
  
Éowyn reached him shortly after and with a small smile; she had welcomed the Prince of Mirkwood. He had attempted to smile back and nodded to her, as she passed on to another. When they had all drunk, the king went down the hall to the doors. There the guards awaited him, and heralds stood, and all the lords and chiefs were gathered together that remained in Edoras or dwelt nearby.  
  
While it was decided who the new leader of the Rohan folk would be, Legolas turned his head away from business of a land that was not his own. As if he resurfacing from the strongest nightmare, he felt really awake for the first time since…Lothlórien it seemed. His eyes could stare into the beauty of the hall, and the scenery beyond the windows. He could see, he could hear, he felt like himself…  
  
There was something wrong then…there just had to be…  
  
"It shall be so," said Théoden, startling him. "Let the heralds announce to the folk that the Lady Éowyn will lead them!"  
  
And once said so, Lady Éowyn was handed a sword and named as the Lady of the house, until the king's return…or the new king's return. She took it to the doors with her, when the company followed the king, to leave the castle on their way to the East.   
  
Aragorn looked back as they passed towards the gate. Alone Éowyn stood before the doors of the house at the stair's head; the sword was set upright before her, and her hands were laid upon the hilt. She was clad now in mail and shone like silver in the sun. To Legolas, she seemed like some Elven Queen of old, ready for battle. Perhaps, more ready for the upcoming battle than most of them.  
  
Gimli, having noticed the change in the elf, now walked with Legolas, testing his observations while walking with his axe on his shoulder. "Well, at last we set off!" he said. "Men need many words before deeds. My axe is restless in my hands. Though I doubt not that these Rohirrim are fell-handed when they come to it. Nonetheless this is not the warfare that suits me. How shall I come to the battle? I wish I could walk and not bump like a sack at Gandalf's saddlebow."  
  
Legolas turned his face towards his friend, and Gimli saw for himself that the now familiar fog in cerulean eyes was gone. "A safer seat than many, I guess," said Legolas. "Yet doubtless Gandalf will gladly put you down on your feet when blows begin; or Shadowfax himself. An axe is no weapon for a rider."  
  
The elven voice was calm, and held the smallest hint of amusement in it, while he looked at his friend for a reaction. Gimli was surprised to find that without this…sort of façade Legolas had always shown him, he seemed…different…much younger, to start.  
  
"And a Dwarf is no horseman. It is orc-necks I would hew, not shave the scalps of Men," said Gimli, patting the haft of his axe, stealing a glance at the elf. Yes, he seemed younger, and much less protected that he had before. He seemed much less…Legolas.  
  
At the gate they found a great host of men, old and young, all ready in the saddle. More than a thousand were there mustered. Their spears were like a springing wood. Loudly and joyously they shouted as Théoden came forth. Some held in readiness the king's horse, Snowmane, and others held the horses of Aragorn and Legolas.   
  
Legolas noticed sadly that there were many young boys between the men, who seemed to have left their houses ready for battle no more than an hour or so ago. Éomer stood beside Gimli now, speaking with the dwarf and trying to make peace. Legolas turned away from the conversation as he neared his horse. The animal seemed glad to see him, and gently nuzzled his neck. He smiled sadly at the mane, patting the strong body gently. The horse suddenly was staring at him, and he almost laughed. Even this sweet horse could see something was wrong.  
  
'Sîdh, mellon nîn' (Peace, my friend) He whispered gently and the horse nuzzled his neck again in response.  
  
When finally reaching an agreement with Éomer, Gimli noticed Legolas' sad gaze as he caressed the four-footed nightmare that he called a horse…maybe not so bad, but the horse was no place for a dwarf…  
  
"I thank you indeed," said Gimli to Éomer, greatly pleased. "I will gladly go with you, if Legolas, my comrade, may ride beside us."  
  
"It shall he so," answered Éomer. "Legolas upon my left, and Aragorn upon my right, and none will dare to stand before us!"  
  
The elf looked up at the mention of his name, and focusing on the words that had been said, he nodded, almost to himself. "Very well, my friends" His voice whispered, but none heard him. He mounted his gentle horse swiftly, moving to the left of Éomer's horse, where Gimli was riding, as he had heard that he should do.  
  
"Behold the White Rider!" cried Aragorn, startling Legolas, and all took up the words.  
  
"Our King and the White Rider!" they shouted. "Forth Eorlingas!"  
  
The trumpets sounded. The horses reared and neighed. Spear clashed on shield. Then the king raised his hand, and with a rush like the sudden onset of a great wind the last host of Rohan rode thundering into the West.   
  
{You should have been left behind}  
{You are no warrior}  
{Shell of an elf}  
{Useless}  
{Weak}  
{You shall die}  
{You shall kill them all}  
{You shall slaughter innocent men}  
{You will be the doom of all who ride with you}  
  
Far over the plain Éowyn saw the glitter of their spears, as she stood still, alone before the doors of the silent house. Her keen eyes focused on the fading figures, before she looked to the sky and hoped for strength.  
  
Strength for the men, for the young, for the heir to Gondor, for her own king, for herself…and for the elf that she knew, would probably die in battle. To her gaze, he had seemed to be dying all ready.  
  
****  
  
The host rode on. Need drove them. Fearing to come too late, they rode with all the speed they could, pausing seldom. Swift and enduring were the steeds of Rohan, but there were many leagues to go. Forty leagues and more it was, as a bird flies, from Edoras to the fords of the Isen, where they hoped to find the king's men that held back the hosts of Saruman.  
  
Night closed about them. At last they halted to make their camp. Wearily the men mounted down their horses, in a great circle, under the starry sky and the waxing moon, they now made their bivouac. They lit no fires, for they were uncertain of events; but they set a ring of mounted guards about them, and scouts rode out far ahead, passing like shadows in the folds of the land. It was quiet all around; just a few whispers between comrades could be detected.   
  
Legolas looked to his right when he jumped off Arod, and saw one of the youngest of the company looking sadly towards the dark sky. Silent steps took the elf next to the boy who looked no older than fifteen winters. Focusing dimmed senses on the silent figure he noticed the air of complete loneliness that the kid seemed to radiate, and the Prince just knew that someone close to this soul had been lost to the unknown fate that waits for mortals once they go beyond the body. Making sure the boy noticed his presence; he stood beside him for a moment.   
  
"Eru gave your kind a gift that no elf will receive, young one, do not believe it to be a curse. Whoever is gone, will be with you once again… if that is to be" the melodic voice of the elf traveled in the silence, and some men turned their heads towards the conversation.  
  
The boy turned shocked eyes to the elf standing next to him, and after a few tries, his voice finally whispered. "How did you…do you…how?"  
  
{A dead one, can sense death}  
  
A sad smile gazed the immortal lips. "I saw you" he whispered "looking at the stars…a sign of hope, are they not?"  
  
The boy nodded silently, and turned his gaze back to the sky. "You believe him to be all right?"  
  
{Better than here}  
  
"'Tis a gift, young one, a gift many of my kind hope for, and shall never know"  
  
{And should know}  
  
The kid's eyes turned to look at the elf, but Legolas was gone to tend to his horse. With a small smile the kid nodded to himself, and with a last gaze to the stars his father had loved, he went to rest for the night.  
  
Legolas lay down on the hard ground, after making sure that Arod was all right, and focused his own gaze on the sky. The stars blinked back at him from their dark home. He felt someone lay down next to him, and turned to look at the new arrival. Aragorn sat on the ground, looking at him with a small smile on his lips.  
"That was very noble of you, my friend" the man whispered, "How you knew that, I know not, but you did exactly what that young man needed"   
  
Legolas looked back towards the sky, and answered after a moment of silence "It is a gift, Aragorn" he spoke softly, without glancing at the ranger "Indeed…one that should not be given to those who still have ties to this lands. What that young one needs, 'tis the one he lost…so many important mortals gone, Aragorn…and too many immortal ones, that should leave the land"  
  
{Nay, 'tis just me who should leave the land}  
{You should have left it long ago, and many of the mortal ones would still be among this earth}  
{I cannot leave it}  
{Aye, you can}  
{I am immortal…I would still live}  
{Do you wish to leave the land?}  
{With each passing instant…}  
{Let me help you, my princeling}  
  
Grey eyes studied the face of his elven friend with worry, and the unguarded features caught him by surprise. Never had he seen the Prince like this: his face alive with emotion, and his blue eyes…dead.  
  
"Legolas" He whispered, and the dying gaze regarded him "Is this really you?"  
  
{You can help me?}  
{Aye}  
  
A small smile crossed the lips of the elf, and the penetrating blue eyes burned deep into Aragorn's grey ones. "Is it not horrible, when your true face is the unrecognizable mask?"  
  
Aragorn closed his eyes briefly, and he placed a hand on the slim shoulder of the archer. "You shall beat this, Legolas, you are strong…'tis the shadow…"  
  
Silence answered the ranger, and he noticed the small tears that wanted to escape Legolas' eyes as he turned his face away from him. The elf shook his head wordlessly, and his eyes went unfocused in sleep. The slow night passed without tidings or alarm. At dawn the horns sounded, and within an hour they took the road again.  
  
To be continued.  
  
R&R please…just in case, my mail 'tis fox_angel18@hotmail.com 


	18. Towards War

Disclaimer: Guess? Oh yeah, not mine. How did you know? :O   
  
Author notes: If you readers are still there...wow, thank you @_@  
  
Thank you, as well, to every single reviewer! Your words inspire me, and make me really look into what I've written so far, so I can give sense to this story.  
  
English is my second language so I apologize for any grammar or spelling mistakes made on this story, Elvish is out on the way I believe it to be, most likely with thousand mistakes on it. Quotes are taken from the book, and in this particular chapter I was forced to add a lot of Tolkien, to explain the situations he created, but of course, my writing is still between some of his.   
  
Short Chapter Warning! ;)   
  
Master in Deceiving  
By Yours Truly  
  
Gandalf departed the company after a few nights, moving swiftly with Shadowfax ahead of the large group of armed men. After days of endless riding, the Riders were still in the low valley before the mouth of the Coomb, when cries and hornblasts were heard from their scouts that went in front. Out of the darkness arrows whistled. Swiftly a scout rode back towards them.  
  
The scout had been overjoyed when he had seen the King of the Mark marching towards the battlefield, but still his news had been grim. Enemies were spreading everywhere, and Helm seemed to be extremely close to a massive attack. Legolas felt the weight of every waking day on his shoulders, every moment, the temptation of giving up control was stronger…yet he showed no signs of weariness as he focused keen eyes ahead and attempted to see what he knew was there. He had seen it but once before, and though far from his own land, he had learned enough of these fields while dwelling in Rivendell:  
  
At Helm's Gate, before the mouth of the Deep, there was a heel of rock thrust outward by the northern cliff. There upon its spur stood high walls of ancient stone, and within them was a lofty tower. The Hornburg it was called, for a trumpet sounded upon the tower echoed in the Deep behind, as if armies long-forgotten were issuing to war from caves beneath the hills. There in the Hornburg at Helm's Gate Erkenbrand, master of Westfold on the borders of the Mark, now dwelt. As the days darkened with threat of war, being wise, he had repaired the wall and made the fastness strong.   
  
That was what Legolas knew. Luckily for him, all was correct.   
  
"Then let us be swift," Éomer was saying when Legolas focused back on the present. "Let us drive through such foes as are already between us and the fastness. There are caves in Helm's Deep where hundreds may lie hid; and secret ways lead thence up on to the hills."  
  
"Trust not to secret ways," said the king. "Saruman has long spied out this land. Still in that place our defense may last long. Let us go!"  
  
Aragorn and Legolas went now with Éomer in the van. The proud ranger, whose gaze seemed fearless and strong, was concerned of so much at once, than a lesser human would have been driven to insanity. His land, his future, his best friend…  
  
{Look what you have done to Estel}  
{I have seen…}  
{You are murdering him, slowly…}  
{I do not…}  
{You torture him}  
  
On through the dark night they rode, ever slower as the darkness deepened and their way climbed southward, higher and higher into the dim folds about the mountains' feet. They found few of the enemy before them. Here and there they came upon roving bands of Orcs; but they fled ere the Riders could take or slay them.  
  
{And none of them touched me}  
{You wish them to}  
{Aye}  
{You wish to leave the land}  
{Aye}  
{You wish to leave the light}  
{Aye}  
{Do you wish then, to accept my help, little Prince?}  
{If I knew who you were…with my voice you speak…yet 'tis not me}  
{You shall know}  
  
"It will not be long I fear," said Éomer, "'ere the coming of the king's host will be known to the leader of our enemies, Saruman or whatever captain he has sent forth."  
  
The rumour of war grew behind them. Now they could hear, borne over the dark, the sound of harsh singing.  
  
{My doom awaits me…}  
  
There was neither star nor moon when the Riders came to the breach in the Dike of Helm, where the stream from above passed out, and the road beside it ran down from the Hornburg. The rampart loomed suddenly before them, a high shadow beyond a dark pit. As they rode up a sentinel challenged them.  
  
"The Lord of the Mark rides to Helm's Gate," Éomer answered. "I, Éomer son of Éomund, speak."  
  
{Battle…war…}  
  
"This is good tidings beyond hope," said the sentinel. "Hasten! The enemy is on your heels."  
  
{I can feel them, they carry death, and they carry destruction…}  
{Do you truly wish to leave this life?}  
{Aye, I do}  
{Then you shall, princeling}  
{How so? By whom?}  
{Feel the war, young Prince of Mirkwood, feel the destruction}  
{I feel the shadow}  
{That is right. You feel your fate}  
{What do you speak of?}  
  
The king and his Riders passed on. Before the causeway that crossed the stream they dismounted. In a long file they led their horses up the ramp and passed within the gates of the Hornburg. There they were welcomed again with joy and renewed hope; for now there were men enough to man both the burg and the barrier wall. Relief could be felt on the very air they breathed; yet all of the soldiers knew it was not a time for celebration. Orcs came by thousands and with their arrival the future of the very land would be decided, battle after battle, until the war's end.   
  
Quickly Éomer set his men in readiness. The king and the men of his household were in the Hornburg, and there also were many of the Westfold-men. But on the Deeping Wall and its tower, and behind it, Éomer arrayed most of the strength that he had, for here the defense seemed more doubtful, if the assault were in great force. The horses were led far up the Deep under such guard as could be spared. Legolas reassured his mount gently, before walking away. He sat above on a parapet, fingering his bow, and peering out into the gloom in silent thought. After some time, he looked up to the approaching sound of heavy steps.   
  
Gimli had followed the silent elf as he gracefully moved between the men reading for battle. He had been struggling to catch up with Legolas, when he had been delayed by a few short words with Éomer; after which, the dwarf had lost sight of his friend. Wandering in the general direction the elf had been heading, he almost gave up. But when he looked up to the castle, he could see a silent figure sitting on a parapet of the rock structure. No man of Rohan that he knew possessed the dim golden glow of an elf. That was Legolas.   
  
His sturdy legs carried him to where the silent figure sat, and twin pools of blue were turned in his direction when he emerged upstairs. Legolas nodded to him, to then stare towards the distance once more. Standing below the parapet, the dwarf maintained the companionable silence for a few minutes, staring ahead as Legolas did. The sight was not a beautiful one. Darkness, and fire in the distance, men reading for battle underneath them…Gimli could feel the battle approaching, and he could not say that he wanted to wait for it. The threat was growing stronger by the minute, and it was about time they start fighting it!  
  
Finally tiring of the silence, as was his custom, the dwarf spoke his mind "This is more to my liking," said he, stamping on the stones. "Ever my heart rises as we draw near the mountains. There is good rock here. This country has tough bones. I felt them in my feet as we came up from the dike. Give me a year and a hundred of my kin and I would make this a place that armies would break upon like water."  
  
{Give me one year… and there would not be a life left on this place}  
{There are no more years for you}  
  
As if considering his words, the elf paused, and finally without turning to face his friend, he spoke softly  
  
"I do not doubt it," answered Legolas. "But you are a dwarf, and dwarves are strange folk; I do not like this place, and I shall like it no more by the light of day. But you comfort me, Gimli, and I am glad to have you standing nigh with your stout legs and your hard axe. I wish there were more of your kin among us. But even more would I give for a hundred good archers of Mirkwood. We shall need them. The Rohirrim have good bowmen after their fashion, but there are too few here, too few."  
  
{Is that true, princeling?}  
{What is?}  
{A hundred good archers of Mirkwood?}  
{Aye…they could kill these foul orcs in the blink of an eye}  
{Leaving you where?}  
{Falling down endless walls of stone…'pushed' by some orc off this place, sent to my death}  
{And after that you would face elven heroes in the halls of Mandos, little one, how would you do that? How to inform to the holy Valar of your failure…you would be seen unworthy, you would be sent back…as a silent shadow…less than even the ghost of the past}  
{There is no hope for me then}  
{There might be one; little one…there might be one}  
{What do you speak of?}  
{Better focus on what Gimli speaks of, now…}  
{Nay, what are these words, and who voices them?}  
{You shall know}  
  
"It is dark for archery," the dwarf was saying, having noticed in silence how the elven voice dripped with exhaustion…as if having faced a war that no other knew of. Thinking fast, his next words were planned.   
  
Rest would do his friend good…or a good battle as any warrior needed. Any choice would have to chase the shadow away from the blue orbs of the elf.  
  
"Indeed it is time for sleep. Sleep! I feel the need of it, as never I thought any dwarf could. Riding is tiring work. Yet my axe is restless in my hand. Give me a row of orc-necks and room to swing and all weariness will fall from me!"  
  
No answer came, and Gimli sighed to himself. Opening his mouth to speak once more, the dwarf never got the chance. For it was then that suddenly from the Dike yells and screams, and the fierce battle-cries of men broke out.  
  
War had reached them, and there was no more time for words.   
  
To be continued… 


	19. Evil's Satisfaction

Disclaimer: I was not alive when this book was first published…do you think it's mine then? *Grins*  
  
Author notes: I love to hear from you, so please R&R. Special thank to all of those kind souls who have reviewed so far. Believe me, at the end of this story; you will get personal thanks ;)   
  
My first personal thanks of the whole story, however, goes for Kaeva, who was wonderful enough to lift my ego to the heavens!   
  
English is my second language so I apologize for any grammar or spelling mistakes made in here. Quotes are taken from the book and elvish is the way I believe it to be, most likely mistaken.   
  
The very awaited (by me) chapter: Helms Deep!!! *Dances around* Part 1 of Helms Deep ;)  
  
Master in Deceiving  
By Yours Truly  
  
Thunder rolled in the valley. Rain came lashing down. Arrows thick as the rain came whistling over the battlements, and fell clinking and glancing on the stones. Some found a mark. The assault on Helm's Deep had begun, but no sound or challenge was heard within; no answering arrows came.  
  
The assailing hosts halted, foiled by the silent menace of rock and wall.  
  
{At last…}  
{You shall not die}  
  
But soon, perhaps too soon, they moved forward, some against the Deeping Wall, other towards the causeway and the ramp that led up to the Hornburg-gates.   
  
{How do you say such things?}  
{You shall not die}  
{Stop…}  
{You. Shall. Not. Die}   
{Please…nay…you said I should}  
  
There the hugest Orcs were mustered, and the wild men of the Dunland fells. A moment they hesitated and then on they came. A black cloud of death that froze the hearts of the men that looked out to see it come.   
  
Time for battle had arrived.  
  
{It was told to you, that you would leave the land, leave the light, and leave this…existence}  
{I must die}  
{And face the Valar, how? And spend the rest of your days as something lesser than a ghost…like you scarcely deserve?}  
{Nay…I cannot remain…}  
  
The broods of shadow came easily, advancing like ants towards food. They reached the summit of the rock; they drove towards the gates.  
  
{Nay, you cannot} The voice was serene; mocking…cold…it was his voice…  
  
{Why…} Nothing more than a mere whisper of despair, the echo of too many battles against enemies that were quickly gaining strength…so much strength…  
  
{Tell me Princeling, do you live?}  
  
Legolas jumped off the parapet on which he was sitting, and faster than any mortal eye could follow, his bow was on his hand, and an arrow securely notched on his hand. Automatic movements then took careful aim as the elf barely sensed Gimli gripping his axe, and muttering on his own tongue, words that dripped with thirst for battle.   
  
{Nay, not any longer, not for a long time…yet neither am I dead…I seem to have long ago become that shadow of the past you speak about}  
{Do you suffer? Like you deserve?}  
{Not nearly as I deserve}  
{How shall you die then? Thee that live, yet claims to die, thee that suffers, yet cries that it will never be enough. You know naught of suffering, little one, nothing! And you shall…you shall know its every syllable, and you shall suffer its every torment…Only then, young one, perhaps only then…you can die}  
  
Legolas' arrow flew though the night, through the rain and through the field; before the lightening had ceased, it had slain a foul creature by piercing its throat. It was the first of a storm of arrows, and a hail of stones that met the orcs in a sudden flash. They wavered, broke, and fled back; and then charged again, broke and charged again; and each time, like the incoming sea, they halted at a higher point. It was a terrifying sight.   
  
Yet the pale hand never wavered, always hitting the intended target, always causing the death of the corrupted soul that those hideous creatures hid inside.   
  
{Are you better than them?}  
  
They were assaulting the doors, the corpse of a tree between foul limbs that they used as hands. The screams of the nature around this place were deafening, the cries of death, the screams for blood. The agony of the dying, the thirst of the warriors, the very drowning air that smelled of death…  
  
It was so much…  
  
It was so…  
  
{Perfect}  
  
Dead eyes regarded the scene and a small grin grazed dry lips. It made the ethereal-being look feral. Had he not been observing ahead, he might have noticed that Gimli could barely recognize him.   
  
There was no time for words.  
  
Below at the Deeping Wall, Éomer and Aragorn stood, waiting, and Legolas could see them. He could see everything. Normally keen senses seemed to have multiplied their ability, seemed to overwhelm him in the midst of the blood shed that went on as arrows flew. Legolas saw them, heard them, and observed in silence as they ran together and as the men that followed them were engulfed in war. The thirst grew…his eyes looked for more; his voice whispered the lines of ancient elvish tales of great battles.   
  
This was a men's war.  
  
He did not even fit on this scene.  
  
And the familiarity of this feeling made him laugh to himself. When the dwarf uttered his name in surprise, the thunder swallowed it, and Legolas never heard it. He never heard the retreat of the stout figure either, never cared to notice, as he killed a foul creature after another, murdering the ones that were breaking the door, the one that were most likely to kill Aragorn, to kill Éomer…the ones that he now knew could not kill him.   
  
{You shall not die, yet you shall murder them all, Princeling}  
{Nay…not this time. I shall save them}  
{Now you are strong? This is you, now? This orc with an elven façade?}  
{Admire your handiwork…}  
{'Tis your own fault, little one…weak one}  
{Weak how?! Tell me now! Weak how, if I can kill the shadow?!}  
{Can you?}  
{Do you not see me?}  
{I see an archer's body; I see a warrior's movements. Yet…that is not you}  
{How can it not be…how?}  
{You, little one…are here…with Me. You have been for a long time}  
{Help me…}  
{I shall, little Prince…I shall very soon…}  
  
Startled, he shot another arrow, killed another one, even as his view was focused on Éomer's fall, as orcs launched on the human.  
  
'Nay! Éomer hûl*!' He cried loudly. A breath later another voice rang out.  
  
''Baruk Khazâd! Khazâd ai-mênu!'' An axe swung and swept back. Two Orcs fell headless. The rest fled. Éomer was safe and Legolas sighed a sigh of relief, short lived as he was forced to murder another orc that seemed to aim for Aragorn. The black creature fell before the dark arrow could be aimed.   
  
{Without Gimli…}  
{I know}  
{Another would have fallen}  
{I saw}  
{And you did nothing. You call yourself strong? Worthy?}  
{Never}  
  
A feverish glint entered dead eyes that suddenly seemed to glow beneath the rain. Another arrow was aimed, and the final arrow of his lot went through an enemy's skull. The orc fell without a noise uttered.   
  
{It is over…over…I must breath…}  
{Never over, princeling}  
{They've locked the door, the orcs are outside, and my arrows are spent…}  
{Unworthy…coward… weak…}  
{When shall you help me…}  
{There is more battle to come, is there not, little one? Wait for it, for aid shall come, I shall aid you}  
  
Quick steps took the dwarf towards the wall he had left before. Where he had seen a side of the elf that never before had he witnessed…that he did not thought existed…looking back of it, Gimli did not think it existed within the elf. It had seemed…evil.  
  
His friend was staring ahead when he reached his place, and the calm he radiated, as if waiting for something to happen, was a stark contrast to the barely maintained sanity he had displayed earlier.   
  
"Two!" said Gimli, patting his axe.   
"Two?" asked Legolas softly, before turning in his direction. "I have done better, though now I must grope for spent arrows; all mine are gone. Yet I make my tale twenty at the least. But that is only a few leaves in a forest."  
  
A pause, silence between them…  
  
Then, the assault on the gates was redoubled. Against the Deeping Wall the hosts of Isengard roared like a sea. Orcs and hillmen swarmed about its feet from end to end. Ropes with grappling hooks were hurled over the parapet faster than men could cut them or fling them back.   
  
{Battle is far from over, little one}  
  
The men of Rohan grew weary. All their arrows were spent, and every shaft was shot; their swords were notched, and their shields were riven. Three times Aragorn and Éomer rallied them; and three times Andúril flamed in a desperate charge that drove the enemy from the wall. Legolas could see it all, the black hordes attempting entrances, and he soon heard the Black Speech floating through the whole fort. It sounded like the orcs were just arriving…like they were…  
  
'Na Elbereth…' (By Elbereth) he whispered with a cry of dismay.   
  
In the Deep behind Orcs had crept like rats through the culvert through which the stream flowed out. There they had gathered in the shadow of the cliffs, until the assault above was hottest. Then they sprang out. Already some had passed into the jaws of the Deep and were among the horses, fighting with the guards.  
  
Gimli leapt with a fierce cry that echoed in the cliffs. 'Khazâd! Khazâd!' He soon had work enough.  
"Ai-oi!" the dwarf shouted. "The Orcs are behind the wall. Ai-oi! Come, Legolas! There are enough for us both. Khazâd ai-mênu"  
  
'An agarwaen cuil!' (For bloodstained life!) Legolas screamed as he went forward, and nobody took notice of another battle cry amongst so many. Aragorn, below, heard these words, and paused in battle for a mere second, before the orc on front of him almost made him pay for it. Then he could no longer think of the words he knew, had been screamed by his elven friend. Legolas went to follow Gimli, but was soon detained on his way, and the dwarf went ahead of him.   
  
Gamling the Old, important man at the fort of Helm, looked down from the Hornburg, hearing the great voice of the dwarf above all the tumult. "The Orcs are in the Deep!" he cried. "Helm! Helm! Forth Helmingas." He shouted as he leaped down the stair from the Rock with many men of Westfold at his back.  
  
Legolas saw this out of the corner of his eye. He had faced one foolish orc that had been going for the wall, and was now collecting a few precious arrows from wherever he could. He lost sight of his friend, and having descended a few steps, could not see Aragorn or Éomer. Only darkness, creatures of Isengard, and unknown men…  
  
Not that he felt any more alone than he did when surrounded by friends.  
  
Going back up worried over his comrades he peered out to the gloom below. "Legolas!" a familiar voice cried, and he recognized it as Aragorn's. "Be wary! Orcs are going up!"  
  
In one swift motion his elven knives were pulled out of their sheaths, even as he heard for himself the sound of heavy feet. Soon, a group of some five orcs appeared, and he was ready for them. Knives flashing, one of them lost its head, and another its right arm. He saw Aragorn come to his aid with Éomer not far behind.   
  
{They are here to make sure you do not slaughter them all}  
{I am a warrior…}  
{Show them…show them, princeling}  
  
In a deathly dance of lightening speed, Legolas killed the orc that had lost its arm, as well as another that lunged at him. Stab, blood, a scream, and such a feel of satisfaction…  
  
There were two left. Legolas moved fast, and in the blink of an eye, he buried his knife deep into the gut of the orc fighting with Aragorn. Éomer beheaded another in the corner of his eye.  
  
He had killed four out of five.  
  
Aragorn gazed at him in silence, as if seeing something new in him, but Legolas paid him no mind, as he turned away and cleaned his knife off the gore of battle. He felt satisfied. He never had felt it before in battle…it felt good…  
  
Gimli climbed up and found Legolas beside Aragorn and Éomer. The elf was whetting his long knife. "Twenty-one!" said Gimli.  
  
"Good!" Legolas answered. "But my count is now two dozen. It has been knife-work up here."  
  
And it felt so good to say that…  
  
Aragorn stared in silence; Éomer frowned to himself at a strange note he had caught in the musical voice of the blond archer. Gimli looked at Legolas, attempting to discover what was bringing this strange behavior from his friend…but Legolas did not even glance at them. He, instead, glanced at the battlefield below.  
  
"This is a night as long as years," he heard the ranger say. And he smiled to himself.  
  
{This night has lasted for years, already}  
  
"'How long will the day tarry?'"  
  
{Never will it come again, Princeling. Did you know that? Tell me, little one…do you feel it?}  
  
A whimper was swallowed by the night, by the battle, by the conversation between Aragorn and Gamling…  
  
{Aye…I fear so}  
  
  
To be continued.  
  
*hûl: Elvish cry of encouragement in battle means something close to "strength!" 


	20. The Price of Smiling

Disclaimer: I have trouble writing my name, how could you believe I wrote Lord of the Rings?  
  
Author Notes: Thank you to all the reviewers! You honestly make my day :) So…don't stop?   
  
English is my second language so I apologize for any grammar or spelling mistakes made on this story. Elvish is the way I believe it to be, with tons of grammar mistakes. Quotes are taken from the book with lines of my own in between.  
  
And now…*drums* …part two of Helms Deep!!! (I bet you did not know I really liked this stage of the book)  
  
20 chapters! Never did I dreamt that...  
  
Master in Deceiving  
By Yours Truly  
  
"Devilry of Saruman!" cried Aragorn, and the satisfaction that Legolas was feeling was swept away like dust by the wind. "They have crept in the culvert again, while we talked, and they have lit the fire of Orthanc beneath our feet. Elendil, Elendil!" he shouted, as he leaped down into the breach; but even as he did so a hundred ladders were raised against the battlements. Orcs screamed in glee as the men attempted to drive them away.  
  
{You were not paying attention}  
{Nay…I was…I…}  
{You must pay attention when in battle, little one, or did you believe yourself to be more than these armies…more than the men who are dying down there?}  
{Never, but I…}  
{If not for Aragorn you would not have noticed the very fire burning beneath you}  
  
Over the wall and under the wall the last assault came sweeping like a dark wave upon a hill of sand. The hordes of Isengard seemed to have lost neither blood-thirst nor strength.   
  
{So many…}  
{Prove them}  
{I do not need to do so}  
{Do you not? Show them you are warrior; prove to Aragorn you can do more than slaughter his friends}  
  
The defense was swept away. Some of the Riders were driven back, further and further into the Deep, falling and fighting as they gave way, step by step, towards the caves. Others cut their way back towards the citadel.  
  
Screams of agony, screams for revenge, screams of pure rage and adrenaline…screams of the earth, and the screams of the very stars seemed to assault Legolas. In every battle he had ever fought it had saddened his heart, it made him suffer to see it, to feel it…now it felt…rewarding.   
  
{Does it not feel better? Does it not, Legolas? Tell me, little one, does it not feel exquisite?}  
{…It does…so much better, what is this sorcery?}  
{'Tis my help, Princeling, feel it, enjoy it to its fullest, feel it all}  
{I did not thought to deserve it}  
{Feel it, Prince of Mirkwood}  
{I feel it}  
  
With a cold grin he ran easily between the battle, going after Aragorn with all his grace and all his speed. A flash of blond hair was all that could discern him from the shadows of this seemingly never-ending night.  
  
{You shall not die}  
{Nay…not with this feeling…}  
{Every thing has its price, Princeling never forget it}  
  
His heart racing, his gaze traveled quickly through the scene with his blue eyes taking in every detail, but none registering.   
  
{What does that mean?}  
  
Silence.  
  
Dread filled him.   
  
There was a broad stairway, climbed from the Deep up to the Rock and the rear-gate of the Hornburg. Close to the bottom of it, stood Aragorn, his friend, his gleaming sword Andúril gleamed dangerously on his hand, and the terror of the sword for a while held back the enemy, as one by one all who could gain the stair passed up towards the gate. The elf was behind him, frightened beyond his millenniums of age. His keen gaze could discern every tense muscle in Aragorn's back as the man stilled the enemies' advance.   
  
{What does that mean?! What price?}  
  
Nothing came. He was shaking all over.  
  
Slowly, Legolas knelt; taking an arrow that had been engraved unto the wood of a window-frame near his stance. It was his very last gleaned arrow. His bow was bent, and the arrow ready. He peered out now, forcing the shaking of his limbs to recede, forcing control over his body. He swallowed hard, as he watched Aragorn stand there …  
  
{Nay…nay, no price, there will be no damned price!}  
  
"All who can have now got safe within, Aragorn," he called towards his friend. "Come back!"  
  
Aragorn turned and sped up the stair; but as he ran he stumbled in his weariness. At once his enemies leapt forward. Up came the Orcs, yelling, with their long arms stretched out to seize him.   
  
Legolas' heart froze. His eyes widened, his breathing quickened like never before. Barely thinking enough to aim, his hands let the arrow fly, and the foremost fell with Legolas' last arrow in its throat. But the rest sprang over him. Then a great boulder, cast from the outer wall above, crashed down upon the stair, and hurled them back into the Deep.  
  
He gasped for breath, as he quickly grabbed Aragorn's arm and led him up towards the wall once more. His heart racing, his eyes wide, to the ranger the elf had never seemed more mortal.   
  
{No price, no price…I do not feel good any longer, no price…}   
  
"Things go ill, my friends," Aragorn said, wiping the sweat from his brow with his arm.  
  
"Ill enough," answered Legolas,   
  
{Aragorn…me…safe, we are safe…Elbereth no!}  
  
"But not yet hopeless, while we have you with us. Where is Gimli?" his last question lost its calm tone, his words rushed, and Aragorn frowned.  
  
"I do not know." The ranger said finally, and Legolas felt his heart freeze again. "I last saw him fighting on the ground behind the wall, but the enemy swept us apart."  
  
{Nay, nay, nay, nay, no price, by the stars Elbereth, no price…}  
  
"Alas! That is evil news," said Legolas in a whisper.  
"He is stout and strong," Aragorn, troubled over the panicked expression on his friend's face, reassured him. "Let us hope that he will escape back to the caves. There he would be safe for a while. Safer than we. Such a refuge would be to the liking of a dwarf."  
  
{Caves…there are caves. Gimli shall find them, he must…}  
  
"That must be my hope'' said Legolas, forcing his breathing to slow down. Noticing Aragorn's worried glance, he thought fast. "But I wish that he had come this way. I desired to tell Master Gimli that my tale is now thirty-nine."  
  
{My voice was normal…all is fine, there are caves. There will be no price for two seconds of satisfaction…}  
{There will not?}  
  
"If he wins back to the caves, he will pass your count again," laughed Aragorn, relieved. "Never did I see an axe so wielded." The ranger searched the blue gaze with his, but the elf quickly turned away. At Aragorn's puzzled frown Legolas began to panic.  
  
{Think, fool of an elf…}  
  
"I must go and seek some arrows," Legolas finally explained. "Would that this night would end, and I could have better light for shooting."  
  
With a nod, he walked away, and Aragorn stared after him for a minute. The ranger sighed and passed into the citadel.   
  
{That was close, was it not, Princeling?}  
{You left me…}  
{'Tis your own mind. One would think you would like to be left alone}  
{Too long without being alone…}  
{You shall miss me if I leave then, little one?} The voice was mocking him…but he felt so small right now…so weak.  
  
{Aye, I think I shall}  
  
He reached a spot that had surely been a battlefield minutes before. Three men lay dead, and some four orcs were scattered on the ground. Two of them had arrows all over their backs. Glancing up he saw the wall where the archers had surely been standing, and saw no one there. With a distracted shrug of his shoulders he collected four arrows from the place. His light, silent steps took him around the perimeter easily, and he managed to collect a good share of arrows to use in whatever battle they next faced.   
  
{There is always a price, little one}  
  
With the only help of his keen hearing, he caught the familiar sound of an arrow bristling through the air. Out of reflex he jumped aside, and glanced at the arrow that had nearly pierced his chest. It was one from an ally. Lifting his head, he loudly called. "I am no orc, halt your attack!" He saw the face of the human archer form the distance. He seemed young, and horribly surprised. Legolas bowed to him, hoping the kid saw it. Then collected the arrow that almost killed him, and added it to his stock.   
  
{There will be no price. I do not know what sorcery was, that made me draw satisfaction from bloodshed, but I do not feel it any longer…I feel nothing any longer}  
  
{Tell me something, Prince of Mirkwood}  
  
He walked away from the place, and went back the way he had come, hoping to find Aragorn somewhere around the wall. For the first time in extremely long years, he needed the reassurance of someone's company…  
  
{Do you not feel the weakness?}  
  
He saw a figure walking ahead of him, and he went up to meet his friend. In silence, Legolas joined the human and walked with him as he passed round all their circuit, enheartening the men, and lending aid wherever the assault was hot.   
  
{I feel the strength leaving my body; I feel my dependence on a voice that sounds like mine. I feel like I am being buried alive…and I cannot stop it}  
  
Blasts of fire leaped up from below shaking the stones. Grappling-hooks were hurled, and ladders raised. Again and again the Orcs gained the summit of the outer wall, and again the defenders cast them down.  
  
{You wish my help then?}  
{What of your price?}  
{'Tis your risk}  
  
At last Aragorn stood above the great gates, heedless of the darts of the enemy. As he looked forth he saw the eastern sky grow pale. Then he raised his empty hand, palm outward in token of parley.  
  
Legolas watched him in silence, his heart racing at the possibility of an arrow piercing his friend's heart. He wanted to stop him, to yell at him to get down from that place…and his voice would not come.  
  
{No price for them…nothing to them. Not my friends…}  
  
{I believe I said *your* risk, Princeling}  
  
The Orcs yelled and jeered. "Come down! Come down!" they cried. "If you wish to speak to us, come down! Bring out your king! We are the fighting Uruk-hai. We will fetch him from his hole, if he does not come. Bring out your skulking king!"   
  
{What if I went down there?}  
  
Legolas' eyes widened at the thought.  
  
{What am I thinking? 'Tis ridiculous!}  
  
The laughs of the foul creatures made him shiver, as he glanced at the glory his friend seemed to radiate, by just standing there.   
  
{And 'tis so tempting…}  
  
A few short breaths, and then he saw Aragorn leap down from the archway of the gate where he had stood. The place came crumbling down in a cloud of smoke and dust. Aragorn sighed and ran towards the king's tower. Legolas closed his eyes tightly and in that split second, nodded, with no one to see it.  
  
{I shall take the risk}  
  
With his heart suddenly feeling lighter, he ran after Aragorn. But his mind would not stop wondering what his price would be.  
  
{Whom do I pay to, then?}  
  
{You shall see, little one}  
  
To be continued.   
  
****  
I hope not have disappointed anyone, for this was such a great part of the books, and I do not know if I made it justice! Just in case, my e-mail is fox_angel18@hotmail.com   
  
****  
By.The.Valar  
  
Somebody added me to his or her favorite list!!! Who was it?? Thank you!!! And so many reviews!!! I just checked them as I was posting this chapter...I cannot believe my eyes! Thank you to every one of you, truly, you have no idea just how big of a smile I am wearing right now! 


	21. Sudden Thoughts of Another

Disclaimer: If I am not even closely related to J R. Tolkien…is the book mine??   
  
Author Notes: I won't stop saying this: Thank you, thank you, thank you to every single reviewer, and every single person who happened to drop by and enjoyed my story, even if she or he did not review (I'll admit to having a severe review craving, but thank you for reading)  
  
English is my second language so I apologize for any grammar or spelling mistakes made on this story. Elvish is the way I believe it to be, with a ton of grammar mistakes. Quotes are taken from the book…and R&R please? You have no idea how happy you make me.  
  
To answer a review I received, I will not wait until the end of the story to reveal Legolas' problem with detail, yet I do not know how far with this story I will go before I do.  
  
Thank you to those 3 people who have added me to their favorite's list. I almost had a heart attack because of it, and loved every second of it ;)   
  
Master in Deceiving  
By Yours Truly  
  
{There had been no price…}  
  
It was under the light of that fair morning when King Théoden and Gandalf the White Rider met again upon the green grass beside the Deeping-stream. There was also Aragorn son of Arathorn, who observed the scene with his usual calm, his eyes discretely drinking in the sight of his friend, Legolas the Elf…smiling. The ranger's eyes attempted to meet the blue gaze of his friend, but the fair Prince was happily staring in the direction of the trees. It warmed Aragorn's heart to see his elven friend enjoying the trees, even if they were wizardry, like he did when they were both younger, in Rivendell or in Mirkwood. The ranger could remember several occasions when he had teased the elf for ignoring him in favor of a tree. With the smallest of smiles, Aragorn turned his own gaze to the strange trees that had helped them in battle.  
  
{Perhaps, Princeling, you must not trust on your luck any longer. The price shall come}  
{There was no price. I can feel not the pain…my heart feels lighter than under any moon we have passed on this quest. Something happened up there…}  
{Yes, little one. Something did happen. And you should know by now that nothing comes for free}  
  
There was also Erkenbrand of Westfold, and the lords of the Golden House. About them were gathered the Rohirrim, the Riders of the Mark: wonder overcame their joy in victory, and their eyes were also turned towards the wood.  
  
Legolas' ears twitched when he caught the familiar sound. His smile brightened as another slight weight was lifted completely off his shoulders.  
  
There was a great shout, and down from the Dike came those who had been driven back into the Deep. There came Gamling the Old, and Éomer son of Éomund, and beside them walked Gimli the dwarf, the owner of the heavy steps Legolas had easily heard coming. The dwarf had no helm, and about his head was a linen band stained with blood; but his voice was loud and strong.  
  
{Do you see? It almost reached your friend. But it is you who must pay it, Princeling of Mirkwood. For you are the one who got the prize…does your heart feel good now, little one? Do your soul feels lighter?}  
  
"Forty-two, Master Legolas!" Gimli cried. "Alas! My axe is notched: the forty-second had an iron collar on his neck. How is it with you?"  
  
{Aye, it feels better, I feel lighter. And I have agreed to pay for it}  
{You will feel it when it is time to pay}  
  
"You have passed my score by one," answered Legolas. "But I do not grudge you the game, so glad am I to see you on your legs!"  
  
{So glad to see your life was not my price}  
{Selfish}  
{Uncaring}  
{Heart of Ice}  
{Nay…nay, I wish to pay now}  
{Do you?}  
{Aye, I cannot bear this. I wish to pay…whoever you are, my will is to pay you now}  
{Since when, pray tell me, does your will matters to me? Since when does it matter to you for that matter? Selfish little one, you shall pay when 'tis time}  
  
He heard the warm welcome the new arrivals received by everyone in the field, and he forced his body to react to the situation. Acting normal, hailing the soldiers that passed by him, and welcoming his friends as warmly as his thoughts permitted him. Luckily for him, it was enough, for the moment.   
  
{Do you hear it?}  
  
"Once more you come in the hour of need, unlooked-for," said Éomer.  
"Unlooked-for?" said Gandalf. "I said that I would return and meet you here."  
  
{All around this group, can you hear the voices?}  
{Whispers…}  
{Aye, whispers, do you hear their voices?}  
{They…they cry}  
{Can you hear why?}  
  
"But you did not name the hour, nor foretell the manner of your coming. Strange help you bring. You are mighty in wizardry, Gandalf the White!"  
"That may be. But if so, I have not shown it yet. I have but given good counsel in peril, and made use of the speed of Shadowfax. Your own valour has done more, and the stout legs of the Westfold-men marching through the night." Answered Gandalf easily, with a smile of amusement gracing his lips.  
  
{They cry in agony…it does not reach me…what is this sorcery? The cries of the trees, they are, yet their pain does not reach me! Why does it not?}  
{You shall know, little one, but I know you can hear their cries, if not feel their pain. What do they say?}  
{They cry over the darkness, the shadow that is overcoming this place…that is overcoming the light…}  
{You know there is more}  
{…That is overcoming me…}  
{You cause their agony, Princeling. Greenleaf…is that not your name?}  
{What shadow?}  
  
Then all the men gazed at Gandalf with still greater wonder. Some glanced at the wood, and passed their hands over their brows, wondering if their eyes deceived them, and they saw what the wizard did not.  
  
Gandalf laughed long and merrily. "The trees?" he said. "Nay, I see the wood as plainly as do you. But that is no deed of mine. It is a thing beyond the counsel of the wise. Better than my design, and better even than my hope the event has proved."  
"Then if not yours, whose is the wizardry?" said Théoden. "Not Saruman's, that is plain. Is there some mightier sage, of whom we have yet to learn?"  
  
"It is not wizardry, but a power far older," said Gandalf: "a power that walked the earth, ere elf sang or hammer rang."  
  
{This cursed nature! Those things are moving again, what business is this of theirs? Shepherds of the trees, so long asleep, they should have long ago disappeared this earth. Why do they meddle in business that is not their own. A men's war, no one else's, no other cursed creature should meddle in such a thing. They will not win this, they shall not beat two armies, not at once, and they cannot…}   
  
Legolas froze. His thoughts blurred, and his muscles tensed. In the midst of explanations, no one noticed. It was not his voice speaking any longer, and they were words not meant for him. Those words were musings of a mind that was not his. The voice…so dark…  
  
{What in the Valar's name are you? Whose thoughts were those?!}  
  
Silence.  
  
Deafening silence.  
  
{What were those words?}  
  
Nothing  
  
{Answer me!}  
  
Then a whisper came. And he recognized his own voice. He almost could not catch the slurred words running through his thoughts.   
  
{Your price, 'tis your price, you felt good? Well you must pay for that, who are you to feel good? Nobody, you are nothing yet your soul feels lighter. Murderer! You would sell your very soul for seconds of well being, for mere wizardry? You would do that to your friends…they trust a traitor!} Yet that was not he.  
  
{That was not my price! That was a mistake, your mistake! You are something, you are alive and you have…} his voice was desperate in his mind, and in the field his presence melted into the background.   
  
Gandalf speaking, Théoden speaking…nobody noticed the elf with wide eyes staring at nothing.   
  
{You have done everything, weakling! Not me! Do not attempt to relieve yourself of the guilt, relieve your being of the blame you have for every wrong that has befallen this company!}  
  
{'Tis was a mistake of yours to let me hear that…}  
  
{'Tis was a mistake of Middle-Earth to let you live! You do not deserve the light, you do not deserve the trees or the nature or the family you have or the abilities you were given. You deserve none. You have none. You have no power, no self-control. }  
  
{Those thoughts were not mine…}  
  
{You have not the strength that is needed to handle the truth. You hide behind the pretty lies you chose to hear. You are but a child, little one. You are a child that should not be amongst heroes and not even among the living. You are not an elf any longer, you are dead, and you are nothing}  
  
{Lies, lies, and lies…you are alive, you are something, you try to fool me…}  
  
{Lies is what you hear, what you chose to hear! I tried to save you, I allowed you to see yourself. But you are too weak; you cannot even handle your own reflection}  
  
{'Twas a twisted reflection}  
  
{The only twisted thing, is that you deny the truth behind my words. Can you not feel it, prince of Mirkwood? Can you not feel the strength abandoning you, the shadow luring you? You have sold your very existence in order to relieve yourself of the weight of your own actions, and you must pay, little one. You must pay with your existence, with your life, and with your light}  
  
{Nay…}  
  
{Do you not feel weaker?}  
  
{Will not answer you…}  
  
{I am you, little one. You have allowed me to become you, to become such a part of your being that you will not live without me, that you will not survive without me. Feel it, Princeling, the strength is leaving you, your burden is returning, is that what you wish?}  
  
{Nay, nay, nay, you are not me…cannot be me…who are you?}  
  
{Answer me, young one, do you wish the burden to return?  
  
{Nay, but neither do I wish the help of shadow}  
  
{What makes you think you are being helped by shadow? By some trick of the mind that has betrayed you since Moria?}  
  
{'Tis was no trick…}  
  
{Says you?}  
{Stop this}  
{You cannot handle it? You cannot even focus on what is happening in the real world, now}  
{I know what has happened. I have heard, I can handle myself like I have done for millenniums past}  
{Have you handled yourself? Or has everyone else done it for you, Princeling?}  
  
The King sent messengers to Edoras. There the Lord of the Mark would hold an assembly of all that could bear arms, on the second day after the full moon. To ride with him to Isengard the King chose Éomer and twenty men of his household. With Gandalf would go Aragorn, and Legolas, and Gimli. In spite of his hurt the dwarf would not stay behind.  
  
"It was only a feeble blow and the cap turned it;" Gimli said. "It would take more than such an orc-scratch to keep me back."  
  
{And it shall take more than your lies for me to acknowledge you once more}  
{You resign your strength, then Princeling? You resign to everything but yourself?}  
{Aye}  
{You do know I will not leave}  
{Aye, but do not celebrate the fact. I shall know who you are, and I shall destroy you}  
  
{You cannot even face yourself…how do you expect to handle, much less destroy, the unknown?}  
  
It was then that this false strength left him, and without it, Legolas was barely able to stumble and lay down on the ground, next to the men that were resting now for the journey towards Isengard. Aragorn was startled, when he saw what he had not seen before: his elven friend closed his eyes.   
  
But the elven prince did not see him…he just allowed a healing trance to overcome him, dulling the voice that still called to him.   
  
{You shall come back to me}  
  
To be continued.  
  
For the advice of a friend, and the wonderful reviews I got, I have decided to leave this chapter as it is. I do want to thank Analorien, however, for correcting a few grammar mistakes in her review. Thank you! I need those corrections from time to time ;) 


	22. Clinging onto Hope

Disclaimer: Mr. JRR Tolkien and the Tolkien…agh! Why must I admit it? Not is, never has been, never will be mine.  
  
Author Notes: I had to pinch myself three times before I believed all the reviews I got on my Author's Note. Thank you, honestly and deeply for your support and the way you scared my doubts away :) Apparently (let's hope!) the writer's block has left me, and I present you here (finally!) with Chapter 22 of my story.   
  
To everyone who reviewed my note, I would love your opinion on this. And for those who did not reply to my author's note, I would love your opinion on this *grin*  
  
Once again, my deepest thanks. And for those who said I had bored them, or that rather than this being a roller coaster it was a bumping cars ride () sorry! But apparently there are people who still like it ^_^ I deeply regret that I seemed to have bored my best reviewers however *pout*  
  
English is my second language, so I apologize for any grammar or spelling mistakes made on this story. Quotes are taken from the book, with lines of my own added in between. Elvish (however few of it) is how I believe it to be, most likely with ten thousand grammar mistakes on it.  
  
Master in Deceiving  
By Yours Truly  
  
Blood.  
It was all over him…and it was not his.  
Blood.  
It was on his hands, on his clothing…on his daggers…on his very soul.  
He was forever stained with the red, upon the once bright light of his existence…and his eyes were to be forever marked with the image that lay in front of him.  
  
Aragorn was being buried among the fallen ones of the battle, his body mutilated, almost beyond recognition…his face frozen in such surprise, such betrayal, that it was unbearable to glance at it without looking away. He had been stabbed…by a dagger…multiple times…and not in battle.   
  
Gimli was being covered with earth when Legolas looked away towards the other side of the field. The dwarf fallen, by two arrows in the back. Arrows made by an orc…but never shot by one.   
  
Legolas felt like an orc as he watched, for his body was numb…and he felt nothing. His hands were stained with his best friend's blood, and they still shook from having shot the arrows that murdered Gimli. Legolas barely discerned the weight of heavy chains on his wrists, on his gore-stained limbs.   
  
And he cared not. For the waiting had been too much, the horrible uncertainty had come to an end. Legolas had made it end.   
  
He had known he would murder them all…he had made it happen at long last. No more waiting, no more anguish of seeing them live when he knew that by his fault they were soon to die. They were dead now…it had come to pass. No more anguish…just the torture of living forever with the knowledge that he had murdered his friends, with the shame put upon him by everyone…even himself.  
  
And there was no more voice…  
  
Legolas, confused by his own thoughts, frightened by his very mind, had finally been able to break the healing trance the following morning, to see that he was the last of them to wake, the others already working in giving burial to the deceased.  
  
{There is no place to escape, little one}  
  
In a panic he had looked around, only to see Aragorn and Gimli helping with the same work. And the both of them were very much alive as he watched them. Forcing his legs to move, he had walked to their side in silence, reassured that it had all been a bad image brought on by too much stress…  
  
Nay, he knew it to be a lie.  
  
Elves do not sleep as mortals do. If even their resting place was haunted by horrible visions, there had to be something seriously wrong. But Legolas shook his head, and stubbornly repeated over and over that it was possible for him to have human nightmares, and that had just seen the proof of it.  
  
{Not even your own thoughts are safe any longer princeling}  
  
After tiring work, when the sun was almost upon the hills, the whole company had finally departed. Now surrounded by the trees that the humans seemed to fear so much, Legolas found a small amount of peace…along with a very small amount of sanity.   
  
{You cannot ignore me forever, little one. I am here…even if you choose not to listen. Concentrate on your beloved surroundings then, for believe me, you will not enjoy them for much}  
  
Awareness had returned to his senses on this day, and after so much time without total control over his own body, to have it back seemed like too much. He still felt that it was overwhelming. He went in the same horse with Gimli, and they followed Gandalf closely, for Gimli feared the wood. But Legolas did not. This nature reminded him of his beloved Mirkwood, and the trees around them, however mysterious they seemed, sang in joy when among times of war they sensed a Wood elf between them.   
  
{You are pathetic child. Looking at the trees as if they would save you from what you have done to yourself}  
  
Legolas would have sung to them, had he been able. He would have smiled and climbed one, and sung to them the songs of this home, to help them visualize forests beyond this dark lands. He would have sat with them for hours, just singing and relaxing…and smiling… but he could not. He could not smile, nor could he sing…and heading towards war, it was very unlikely that he would be allowed to stop his advance. Still, he needed these trees. They gave him the strength that he no longer felt. Their song with mixed themes of joy and sorrow made him feel needed, something that he had not felt since…since Moria? The elf sighed, and attempted to focus on the task at hand. They were headed to save the land, to fight the Dark Lord, and here he was thinking of the trees…  
  
{Pathetic}  
  
But he wanted to be with the trees…  
  
Stealing side-glances to them, Legolas felt frustration building up, among with the strange desire to burst out laughing. He felt like a child. He felt like an exhausted child that carried two lines of thoughts instead of one, a child that carried another presence on his mind. A desperate child trying to cling into whatever small light there was among so much darkness.   
  
Choosing to distract his thoughts, and hopefully the taunting voice inside his thoughts, Legolas rode his horse closer to Mithrandir's.   
  
"It is hot in here," said Legolas to Gandalf. "I feel a great wrath about me. Do you not feel the air throb in your ears?"  
"Yes," answered Gandalf, his glance towards the blue eyes of the elf, told Legolas that he knew what he was trying to do.  
"What has become of the miserable Orcs?" Legolas asked, refusing to give up his hope to distract himself.  
  
"That, I think, no one will ever know," Gandalf responded, with a touch of finality to his voice.  
  
{Not even your friends will help you any longer}  
  
Disappointed, Legolas gave up his attempt at conversation with the wizard, and concentrated back on the trees. They were his only hope then…the only thing that would keep him from listening to the foul voice. The company rode in silence for a while; but Legolas was ever glancing from side to side, and would often have halted to listen to the sounds of the wood, if Gimli had allowed it.  
  
"These are the strangest trees that ever I saw," Legolas tried to explain to the stubborn dwarf "and I have seen many an oak grow from acorn to ruinous age. I wish that there were leisure now to walk among them: they have voices, and in time I might come to understand their thought."  
  
{Please…let me stop for a second…I need something, and the trees provide it}  
  
{Child}  
  
"No, no!" said Gimli. "Let us leave them! I guess their thought already: hatred of all that go on two legs; and their speech is of crushing and strangling."  
  
Legolas frowned, displeased with the assumption. He vaguely realized that this was working; he was not listening to anything but his friend's voice.  
  
"Not of all that go on two legs," said Legolas. "There I think you are wrong. It is Orcs that they hate. For they do not belong here and know little of Elves and Men. Far away are the valleys where they sprang. From the deep dales of Fangorn, Gimli, that is whence they come, I guess."  
  
"Then that is the most perilous wood in Middle-earth," said Gimli. "I should be grateful for the part they have played, but I do not love them. You may think them wonderful, but I have seen a greater wonder in this land…" The dwarf started to tell him about the caves of Helm's Deep, and Legolas sighed. No cave would ever breath, and no stonewall would ever sing to him the song of endless years.   
  
"…Dwarves, merely to gaze at them, if such things were known to be. Aye indeed, they would pay pure gold for a brief glance!" Gimli said then.  
  
Seeing his chance to tease the dwarf, he spoke "And I would give gold to be excused," said Legolas dryly; "and double to be let out, if I strayed in!" Mithrandir glanced back at him with the barest of grins, and Legolas allowed his face to break into the slightest smile. This felt good.   
  
{You do not deserve good}  
  
Seeing the elf's expression, Gimli controlled his urge to laugh, "You have not seen, so I forgive your jest," said he. "But you speak like a fool. Do you think those halls are fair, where your King dwells under the hill in Mirkwood…"  
  
And *then* he really started to ramble. Legolas smiled at him, listening to the tales that spoke of real beauty hidden beneath the work of art that was nature.   
  
{Neither do you deserve that smile; erase it from your face. Boromir no longer smiles because of you. Neither does Frodo, nor Merry, nor Pippin…}  
  
"…The Caverns of Helm's Deep! Happy was the chance that drove me there! It makes me weep to leave them." Gimli concluded, with a sigh that made Legolas grin.  
  
He had not smiled this way in months.  
  
"Then I will wish you this fortune for your comfort, Gimli," said the Elf, extending as long as he was able the most pleasing talk he had had with anyone since this burden had been added to his shoulders.  
  
{The burden of your deeds, little one?}  
  
"That you may come safe from war and return to see them again. But do not tell all your kindred! There seems little left for them to do, from your account. Maybe the men of this land are wise to say little: one family of busy dwarves with hammer and chisel might mar more than they made."   
  
Gimli answered with such eloquence, that he just knew his father would be on the floor laughing now. He had not believed dwarf to be capable of such moving words. But Legolas was not laughing…for in his words, he saw hope.  
  
{Hope with a dwarf? Your father would be so proud, princeling…}  
  
"You move me, Gimli," said Legolas. "I have never heard you speak like this before. Almost you make me regret that I have not seen these caves. Come! Let us make this bargain-if we both return safe out of the perils that await us, we will journey for a while together. You shall visit Fangorn with me, and then I will come with you to see Helm's Deep."  
  
"That would not be the way of return that I should choose," said Gimli carefully, noticing the new light entering pools of blue. "But I will endure Fangorn, if I have your promise to come back to the caves and share their wonder with me."  
  
"You have my promise," said Legolas, as a weight was lifted from his shoulders. "But alas! Now we must leave behind both cave and wood for a while: See! We are coming to the end of the trees. How far is it to Isengard, Gandalf?"  
  
"About fifteen leagues, as the crows of Saruman make it" said Gandalf. The wizard, not having missed one detail of the conversation that had just transpired, was able to see some light at the end of the tunnel…yet it seemed dim: "five from the mouth of Deeping-coomb to the Fords: and ten more from there to the gates of Isengard. But we shall not ride all the way this night."  
  
"And when we come there, what shall we see?" asked Gimli. "You may know, but I cannot guess."  
  
{I tell what you will see, little prince. You will see your future, your doom…}  
  
"I do not know myself for certain," answered the wizard calmly. "I was there at nightfall yesterday, but much may have happened since." He paused and inwardly smiled, glancing at the smiling elf "Yet I think that you will not say that the journey was in vain - not though the Glittering Caves of Aglarond be left behind."   
  
Finally, they reached the end of trees. Legolas looked back to them with regret, knowing he would not be listening to their song in a long time to come. Suddenly, his keen gaze detected something so surprising; he was unable to retain his cry. "There are eyes!" he said. "Eyes looking out from the shadows of the boughs! I never saw such eyes before."  
  
{Delusional}  
  
The others, surprised by his cry, halted and turned; but Legolas started to ride back.  
  
{If I hear real voices, then I see real eyes} he thought angrily, finally answering the taunting voice that had mocked him for the entire ride.  
  
"No, no!" Cried Gimli. "Do as you please in your madness, but let me first get down from this horse! I wish to see no eyes!"   
  
Aragorn was biting his lip to keep from laughing out loud. Now that was the elf he knew. That was his dear friend.  
  
"Stay, Legolas Greenleaf!" said Gandalf. "Do not go back into the wood, not yet! Now is not your time."  
Even as he spoke, there came forward out of the trees three strange shapes.  
  
With wide eyes the elf halted and watched, even as he felt Gimli get impossible tense behind him. The shapes were enormous with long limbs and many fingers. They gazed towards the north, ignoring the riders that stood gaping at them. Suddenly they lifted their long hands to their mouths, and sent forth ringing calls, clear as notes of a horn, but more musical and various. The calls were answered; and turning again, the riders saw other creatures of the same kind approaching, striding through the grass from the North. The riders cried out, and some even attempted to draw their swords, but Gandalf advised them against it.  
  
Legolas stared in wonder and glee, for he believed to know what these creatures were, and ever since his childhood, all those centuries ago, he had desired to see them. Now he could barely believe his eyes.   
  
{You are still a child}  
  
The Ents paid them no mind as they strode into the wood and vanished from their sight. Gimli let out a sigh of relief at his back, and Legolas laughed. If he did not have Aragorn's eyes on him he would have rode after them, with or without the dwarf at his back. Fighting his impulse to ride towards the wood, Legolas nodded to Aragorn and listened half-heartedly to the conversation going on between Gandalf and Théoden.   
  
The company turned then away from the Coomb and from the wood and took the road towards the Fords. Legolas followed reluctantly, while Gimli patted his shoulder in mock comfort. Legolas glared at him over his shoulder. The sun had set, already it had sunk behind the rim of the world; but as they rode out from the shadow of the hills and looked west to the Gap of Rohan the sky was still red, and a burning light was under the floating clouds. The company rode at an easy pace, as the moon ascended the skies and dark fell around them.   
  
They had ridden for some four hours from the branching of the roads when they drew near to the Fords. Grief along with the sense of losses and death weighted heavily on this land, as Legolas looked around in silence: This had been a battlefield that was for certain. Théoden's words later confirmed it. Following Gandalf's lead the riders passed through the sorrow filled fields, and Legolas ignored as best as he could the cries of the grieving nature.   
  
{You hide from the battle that you know you must fight, little one. You ignore my presence as if I did not exist…but I do, princeling, I exist. And I shall be with you beyond the day in which you receive your punishment…for you shall receive it soon}  
  
"…That wolf-riders and plunderers might ride nonetheless to Meduseld, while it was undefended. But now I think you need not fear: you will find your house to welcome your return." Gandalf was saying  
"And glad shall I be to see it again," answered King Théoden, "though brief now, I doubt not, shall be my abiding there."  
  
{Keep your silence, foul one; I am tired to listen to your ramblings. I shall hear thy words no longer}  
{Brave words for such a coward, little one}  
  
With that the company said farewell to the island and the mound, and passed over the river, and climbed the further bank. Then they rode on, glad to have left the mournful Fords. As they went the howling of the wolves broke out anew. It brought a strange kind of calm to Legolas' mind. They rode now more swiftly, and by midnight the Fords were nearly five leagues behind. Then they halted, ending their night's journey, for the King was weary. They were come to the feet of the Misty Mountains, and the long arms of Nan Curunír stretched down to meet them. Dark was the scenery, and darker Legolas' thoughts became.   
  
{You cannot send me to be quiet, Prince of Mirkwood. I am more than you are…I am stronger than you are. And I am the one in real control of you. You cannot send your mind to be quiet, for you mind is what I have become}  
  
Ignoring the conversation going on about the seemingly burning Wizard's Vale, Legolas focused his mind in only one task. The camp. They camped beside the bed of the Isen River; it was still silent and empty. Some of them slept a little. But late in the night the watchmen cried out, and all awoke.   
  
Legolas jumped up from the ground and looked around them in alarm. His blood froze at the sight. . The moon was gone. Stars were shining above; but over the ground there crept a darkness blacker than the night. On both sides of the river it rolled towards them, going northward.  
  
"Stay where you are!" cried Gandalf. "Draw no weapons! Wait! And it will pass you by!"  
  
But Legolas saw beyond the mist that gathered about them. He saw the shapes, the bodies and the faces…  
  
{Here is your future little one}  
  
Voices they all heard, whisperings and groanings and an endless rustling sigh; the earth shook under them. But Legolas heard beyond that.  
  
"Death" "Blood" "My blood" "My soul" "My light" "My life" "They are gone" "My daughter…" "My brother…" "What have I done?" "Betrayed" "Tortured" "A shadow I have become" "Your fault…" "My fault…" "Murder" "Cruelty" "Unfair" "Injustice" "Traitor" "My price…"  
  
The agonized cries went on around him; in a gloom so intense he could not see his own two feet. But he could see their blood; he could see their faces…  
  
{You see it, then?}  
  
Wait…  
Nay…  
It was an illusion!   
  
Shaking his head in anger, fright and confusion. Legolas closed his eyes tightly, and focused his mind on the tales of his childhood, of the gentle voices of the shepherds of the trees. The sweet song that they called their language…he could feel nature now. Not death, not grief…  
  
When he reopened his eyes the shadows were slowly getting past them, and he no longer heard their cries nor did he see their faces. For they had never been there. At last, when the last wall of shadow passed him by, he could hear the tired sigh of a long life that had revenged the unfairness. That had slain the orcs.   
  
His face pale beyond what was normal. His eyes wide like one who has faced a Balrog, Legolas sat in the ground.   
  
{My future?}  
  
To be continued  
  
R&R please! Let me know your opinion! 


	23. Unexpected Findings

Disclaimer: Do you even read this if you know it is not mine? *Blink* guess not *Grin*   
  
Author Notes: Thank you to my reviewers. Thank you to the very sweet people that actually sent me a mail (Siberian_blue18@yahoo.com…hint ^^) and to all of those who are actually reading! (I did not think you were still there)  
  
English is my 2nd language so I apologize for any grammar or spelling mistakes made on the story. Elvish is the way I believe it to be, most likely mistaken. Quotes were taken from the book by J.R Tolkien (*Gasp* I did *not* write it?) with lines of my own in between.   
  
Oh, and…PLEASE R&R!!!! I AM DESPERATE TO KNOW IF MY WRITING SKILLS WERE BRUTALLY MURDERED BY MY WRITER'S BLOCK!!!  
  
Master in Deceiving  
By Yours Truly  
  
His eyes were dying.  
  
That was the first thing Aragorn noticed at the first light of dawn, when he looked over to his elven friend, who sat in the ground looking terribly pale. He seemed to be thinking about something very important…  
  
But lately 'thinking' had become very dangerous for this particular elf.  
  
Images of death and terror had attacked Legolas, wave after wave, each getting more horrific than the previous. The terrifying cries that had at first seemed to come from the shapes of the night before, now came from his mind…and they sounded nothing like a hallucination. Yet, his face had remained impassive with such terrible thoughts, for only two words kept repeating themselves over and over inside the Prince's thoughts, mingled with his scenes brought up by his betraying mind.  
  
{My future}  
  
Blood   
  
{My future}   
  
His friends lay slain on the ground   
  
{My future}  
  
Eternal torture   
  
{My future}  
  
Betrayal   
  
{My future}  
  
Terribly true images of Boromir's murder   
  
{My future}  
  
Gandalf's grief filled eyes   
  
{My future}  
  
The disapproving gaze of his father  
  
{My future}  
  
The terribly clear image of the dark face of an orc  
  
{My future}  
  
The hobbits were slain at the feet of the strangest of beings…an orc with a blue gaze…  
  
Legolas could do nothing to hide his dying gaze, just as he could not avoid Aragorn's worried looks for much longer. It was a matter of time… that much was obvious.   
  
At the call at down, the elf had risen silently and moved towards his horse to depart. He mounted and helped Gimli to mount at his back, refusing the dwarf's offering of a red apple with a shake of his golden head. Not even the dreaded voice had spoken to him that morning, seemingly content with Legolas' thoughts.   
After several futile attempts at conversation, Gimli and Gandalf had given up, as Aragorn observed his friend from a distance while they passed through the now destroyed Ring of Isengard. But neither that sight nor the very Orthanc, the citadel of Saruman, had caused any reaction from stormy elven eyes.   
  
At the moment, the company stood before the destroyed entrance. Doors lay hurled and twisted on the ground. And all about, stone, cracked and splintered into countless jagged shards, was scattered far and wide, or piled in ruinous heaps. With shock they all gazed around themselves, but their eyes did not fool them.   
  
The power of Saruman seemed to have been overthrown.   
  
Aragorn sighed in a strange combination of worry for his friend, and excitement brought by this now ruined place. The tower of Orthanc was the only thing intact.  
  
Legolas looked around in disinterest. He should be staring with wide eyes. He should be glancing towards underneath the archway, where among the ruins, two small figures could be seen. But he looked around, and nothing but two words registered.  
  
{My future}  
  
The words did not made sense on his mind; they brought no light of understanding with them. They simply, for some unknown reason, shone with finality and truth in the elf's thoughts. Whatever he saw could be applied to those words.  
  
This destroyed place could very well be his future.  
  
Gimli tensed on his seat on the horse when he felt the elf do so.  
  
"What is it, Legolas? Have you felt some danger? Is this some wizardry of Saruman?" Gimli hissed lowly, and for the first time in that day, Legolas grinned. But it held none of the hope it had held on the previous day.  
  
"Nay, my friend, I sense no danger" said Legolas 'I sense my future' he added silently  
  
It was then that the two small figures registered in Legolas' muddled brain, and the few lines of coherent thought left in him, froze. His entire body froze, in fact, as his eyes came to rest on the figures. One lay asleep as the other lazily blew smoke rings into the air.   
  
{My past}  
{You deeds} The terrible whisper of his 'other' voice among the earlier silence chilled his bones.   
  
The one who seemed to be a young man suddenly became aware of their presence on this place, and stood up to bow low before them. Legolas' eyes widened, and his heart sped up, as his thought began confusing him again.  
  
{Were they not hiding?}  
{They should be playing…}  
{Did they grew weary of this game? It has been too long…}  
{Did Boromir found them?}  
{Why did no one told me?}  
{I should do something…I missed them…}  
  
{They did not miss you}  
  
Indeed, it seemed that way, for the "young man" was addressing the King of the Mark, and Éomer, without even sparing a glance in their direction.   
  
{Perhaps they…perhaps they despise me now}  
  
Hollow eyes looked on as elven ears barely registered the sound of the "young man's" voice, as Aragorn kept glancing from the one who spoke, back to the elf.  
  
"Welcome, my lords, to Isengard!" the young one was saying. "We are the door wardens. Meriadoc, son of Saradoc is my name; and my companion, who, alas! Is overcome with weariness" - he gave his companion a dig with his foot - "is Peregrin, son of Paladin, of the house of Took. Far in the North is our home. The Lord Saruman is within; but at the moment he is closeted with one Wormtongue, or doubtless he would be here to welcome such honourable guests."  
  
{I have found them! By the Valar, I have found my dear friends! The game is over and it is time to return…}  
{Did they wished to be found…by you? Why if they can leave this place, they stayed? Do you think the game is over, little Prince? It is far from it}  
  
Grey human eyes detected the slight cringe in the elf's features, in what should be a joyous occasion.  
  
"Doubtless he would!" laughed Gandalf at the hobbit's words.   
  
His wise voice was barely heard once more, as dulled elven senses gave way slowly to a stronger force; Legolas had let his mind wander, had let his eyes go unfocussed for he was weary of pretending to be his normal self. Now the elf panicked when he suddenly felt his own mind…no…this 'presence' growing stronger by the minute on his own thoughts, making him weaker, feeding on his weakness, feeding on his fear as he was slowly but surely moved to the background. He was losing ground…he was literally loosing his mind…  
  
Merry answered gravely to Gandalf's inquiry of Saruman, and spoke of an Ent. Legolas held on with all his remaining will, with every ounce of strength left in his body. The elf fought to grab onto any word, any thought that would give him control. He begged silently for anyone to call for him, anyone to bring him back. He saw Aragorn open his mouth to speak at the corner of his eye, and he prayed whatever he would say would save him. Dark his vision was becoming, when finally there was a voice.  
  
"And what about your companions? What about Legolas and me?" it was Gimli who spoke first, unable to contain himself longer. Legolas, hearing his name through the fog dulling his senses, fought the most staining battle of his existence. Gaining inch by inch a small part of his thoughts back. His relief was immense when he realized he could hear Gimli's words clearly.  
  
"You rascals, you woolly-footed and wool-pated truants! A fine hunt you have led us! Two hundred leagues, through fen and forest, battle and death, to rescue you! And here we find you feasting and idling-and smoking! Smoking! Where did you come by the weed, you villains? Hammer and tongs! I am so torn between rage and joy, that if I do not burst. It will be a marvel!"  
  
A smile of triumph gazed Legolas' face when he could hear every single word spoken, and the sudden force that had attacked him was dimmed. He could still feel it however…merely resting.  
  
"You speak for me, Gimli," laughed Legolas then. "Though I would sooner learn how they came by the wine."  
  
{Not that I can drink it without loosing my thin grasp on control…}  
{Control? When have you ever had control Princeling?}  
{Now I have it}  
{You believe so}  
  
Gandalf and Théoden were soon to go and speak with Treebeard, the very Fangorn. Left behind by them, Aragorn, Gimli, Legolas, Merry and Pippin went for food into the destroyed place that was once Saruman's. They eat hungrily and even Legolas managed to get a few things down, for he had not eaten since the previous day. Had the hobbits known that, they would be horrified, the elf mused as he looked into the little one's faces.  
  
{They are alive…}  
{Not because of you}  
{They are here}  
{While they do not wish to be}  
  
The attack on his mind, which had nearly thrown him aside with no fight, had left him fearful, for he did not know where it had come from. Was it the voice that tormented him…or something else altogether? It could be nothing…it could be exhaustion…Legolas sighed, he was lying to himself once more. He tried to go outside of this stone place, to be on his own, but Aragorn followed him outside, as did everyone else. Legolas sat in silence for a few minutes as the others smoked, but soon grew restless and began to sing softly under his breath.  
  
Songs of strength and forgotten elven battles that his father had some day sung to him came from his lips, yet the memories that came with them soon overwhelmed him and at last he sat up. "Come now!" he said. "Time wears on, and the mists are blowing away, or would if you strange folk did not wreathe yourselves in smoke. What of the tale?"  
  
Pippin began the tale, Merry then continued, and between both hobbits they spoke for what to them seemed like hours, relating stories worthy of songs. From the orcs, to Treebeard, to Quickbeam, to the water of the Ents, then to how both hobbits had grown taller which exposed Gimli's amazement and Legolas' slight amusement. Then came the council of the Ents, the march towards Isengard, and how the people of Isengard had marched away, towards another war, before the Ents and the newly arrived 'Huorns', as the Ents called the dark silent ones of their kind, could attack them. The Huorns had gone after the orcs, while the Ents brought down Saruman's citadel in less time that was thought possible. Then the hobbits spoke of Saruman's escape into Orthanc, and Gandalf's previous meeting with both hobbits, and with Treebeard.   
  
Legolas listened to all of it, and he concentrated on every word, for he knew that if he let his guard down, he would be paying too high of a price…his body, and his life…his mind and his sanity.  
  
Hours later, the tale ended, and with their share of questions answered, and some new ones raised, the hobbits, man, dwarf and elf, changed the subject of their talk into other matters, rather than the past.  
  
"Ah well, whatever evil was afoot is over now, I hope; or else it is beyond our reach at present," said Aragorn. "Yet I think I shall mention it to Gandalf, small matter though it may seem among his great affairs."  
  
"I wonder what he is doing," said Merry. "The afternoon is getting on. Let us go and look round! You can enter Isengard now at any rate, Strider, if you want to. But it is not a very cheerful sight."   
  
Legolas sighed and stood up from his seat, following his friends in silence. The hobbits had not really spoken to him while on their tale, and Aragorn and Gimli had not glanced at him during the whole of the conversation, so engrossed had they been. Shaking his head, he tried to vanish the dreadful voice as it whispered an anger filled mantra into his blurred thoughts.  
  
{They hate you.}  
{They despise you.}  
{They blame you.}  
{They know you.}   
{They are right.}  
  
Walking through the ruined tunnel they stood upon a heap of stones, gazing at the dark rock of Orthanc, and its many windows, a menace still in the desolation that lay all about it. While they stood there, Legolas began to feel something new…and nothing pleasant…a new kind of attack it seemed to the elven warrior.  
  
{What is happening to me?}  
  
Before, his thoughts had been blurred and confusing, but now…now as he stood glancing ahead in silence, his thoughts were too many and too fast for him to understand. His always quick mind was now a resting place for too many thoughts, too many ideas, and not one thing to focus on. Even feelings were in him battling, for he could feel fear bubbling up within him, at the same time he felt euphoria.   
  
{Is this truly I?}  
  
He wanted to jump; as much he wanted to weep, and he wanted nothing more than to be back at home, for the trees of his home would be the best place that he could die on. Fighting back the urge to laugh at nothing, Legolas looked ahead and noticed the approaching familiar figures.   
  
"There is Gandalf, and Théoden and his men!" said Legolas. "Let us go and meet them!" He jumped from his place, and with graceful step he went ahead, but a voice slowed his pace.  
"Walk warily!" said Merry. "There are loose slabs that may tilt up and throw you down into a pit, if you don't take care."  
  
Forcing his legs to stop, Legolas nodded and walked warily with the rest of them. But the elf wished to run, and to jump, and to lie down to rest at the same time. He wished to laugh at himself, while he wished he could cry for what he had become.   
  
{You see, Princeling? I could still help you…I could still save you from yourself little one…}  
  
The riders, seeing them approach, halted under the shadow of the rock and waited for them. Gandalf rode forward to meet them, with a short sympathetic glance towards the oblivious elf. The wizard told them all of his plans to speak with Saruman and he sighed when they all followed him towards Orthanc. When the silent company reached the foot of the tower, Gandalf descended from his horse.  
  
{I wish to ride…} {When was the last time I eat?}{What is Gandalf doing here?}{Is it over?} {Father? I am tired. May I go to bed?}{I think I should not be here…}{What is here?}{Her hair was long, her limbs were white, and fair she was and free; and in the wind she went as light as leaf of linden-tree…}  
  
"I will go up," said Gandalf. "I have been in Orthanc and I know my peril."  
"And I too will go up," said the king. "I am old, and fear no peril any more. I wish to speak with the enemy who has done me so much wrong. Éomer shall come with me, and see that my aged feet do not falter."  
"As you will," said Gandalf. He rested his eyes on Legolas' for the shortest of seconds, and realized with a start how unbelievably young and lost the elf seemed "Aragorn shall come with me." the wizard went on "Let the others await at the foot of the stairs. They will hear and see enough, if there is anything to hear or see."  
  
"Nay!" Said Gimli. "Legolas and I wish for a closer view. We alone here represent our kindred. We also will come behind."  
  
{We do?}{We will?}{We?}{Who are we?}  
  
Gandalf sighed, and after looking at the stubborn dwarf, nodded. "Come then!" said Gandalf, and with that he climbed the steps, and Théoden went beside him.   
  
Legolas followed their lead, confused and amused. He thought among another ten thousand things, that the hobbits looked rather funny among all of them… they were so small…but now taller…hmm had they grown up? Were they children?  
  
{I can help you Princeling}  
{You can?}  
{Aye}  
{And who is 'you?'}  
{You}  
{And who am I? Am I a prince?}{I like the forest; I do not like this place}{I wish to be a prince of the forest!}{Where am I even going?}{Who is the man ahead?}{Who is the one in white?}{Who is the one with the funny ears…wait…that is me…what am I doing out there?}  
  
Laughter rang on his mind, and like a child Legolas looked around, expecting to see someone laughing. But no, many people were talking to an old man who was above, in a window. The man seemed strange to Legolas, and he decided not to like him. But then he forgot his decision, and found himself staring at the one everyone was calling 'Saruman'. The man was speaking in a sweet voice, only to then hiss like a serpent. Time and time again Legolas decided not to like him, to then forget and keep staring. This 'Saruman' looked at him during a moment of silence, and his sneer made Legolas shiver. But then, this man in white…he knew him…yes! Gandalf, Gandalf…Gandalf said something and the other old man went away. Legolas shrugged to himself, not having heard a word of what had been spoken. Suddenly, a crystal ball was thrown from a high window, and almost fell on the head of the man in white…his name…Gandalf! Yes, Gandalf, almost fell on him. Legolas decided he rather liked Gandalf, so he felt angry when he was almost hit with that ball. But then, he also felt like laughing. The aim of whoever threw that ball was terrible…  
  
{Come little one let me help you…}  
{Father?} His inner voice sounded as childish as his thoughts and actions were beginning to be, Legolas vaguely realized.  
{Nay, little one…} his other voice sounded mocking…  
{Mother?}  
{Nay…}  
{Then nay!}  
{What is wrong with you, Princeling?}  
{You! You are wrong with me} And then his voice was normal as he managed to fight down the 'presence' he could once more feel fighting against him.   
  
He accompanied the rest of the company down the stairs, and when they reached the bottom, Legolas froze and stared in awe, for there was Ents there.   
  
{Ents?}  
  
His surroundings and his present crashed back down on the Wood elf with staggering force. Legolas blinked slowly as Gandalf introduced them, and the Ent spoke with Aragorn, then Gimli, then turned to him.   
  
"So you have come all the way from Mirkwood, my good Elf? A very great forest it used to be!"  
  
Images assaulted him with the Ent's words: Trees and the golden light of the sun…its delicious rays warming him as he played in his home when he had been younger. Silver elven laughter rang clear on his memory, even as this time he felt two ancient eyes observing his games.   
  
"And still is," answered Legolas, surprised; yet pleased that his voice was his usual. "But not so great that we who dwell there ever tire of seeing new trees. I should dearly love to journey in Fangorn's Wood. I scarcely passed beyond the eaves of it, and I did not wish to turn back."  
Treebeard's eyes gleamed with pleasure, and Legolas felt like laughing…or screaming…whichever came. "I hope you may have your wish, ere the hills be much older," the Ent said.  
"I will come, if I have the fortune," said Legolas. "I have made a bargain with my friend that, if all goes well, we will visit Fangorn together - by your leave."  
"Any Elf that comes with you will be welcome," said Treebeard.  
  
Laughter attempted to escape Legolas as useless images of foolishness came to his thoughts. Legolas could never see Gimli as an elf…with a soft sigh Legolas closed his eyes for a moment… he was loosing his mind…  
  
"The friend I speak of is not an Elf," said Legolas; "I mean Gimli, Glóin's son here." Gimli bowed low, and the axe slipped from his belt and clattered on the ground.  
  
He almost lost it then, and a smile appeared on Legolas' face. He wished to laugh so badly…but then he also wished to cry for the bad fortune…and then he also wished to scream for the heck of it…and he wished he could be himself once more…  
  
"Hoom, hm! Ah now," said Treebeard, looking dark-eyed at the dwarf. "A dwarf and an axe-bearer! Hoom! I have good will to Elves; but you ask much. This is a strange friendship!" "Strange it may seem," said Legolas; "'but while Gimli lives I shall not come to Fangorn alone. His axe is not for trees, but for orc-necks, O Fangorn, Master of Fangorn's Wood. Forty-two he hewed in the battle."  
"Hoo! Come now!" said Treebeard. "That is a better story! Well, well, things will go as they will; and there is no need to hurry to meet them. But now we must part for a while. Day is drawing to an end, yet Gandalf says you must go ere nightfall, and the Lord of the Mark is eager for his own house."  
"Yes, we must go, and go now," said Gandalf, throwing a concerned look over to the elf. A soft laugh escaped Legolas then, and only one heard it. Aragorn. The man looked at Legolas and the elf looked away, still grinning…almost feverishly. Legolas spoke no more until they marched forward once more. But his thoughts were never quiet.  
  
{Gimli dropped his axe}{Forty-two orcs? I killed more, never told, never told anyone…}{did I kill more orcs?}{Never told, never told}{Where are we going?}{Who is his cursed voice?}   
  
Laughter rang in his thoughts once more, as a mocking whisper silenced the rest of his confused ideas for a few moments.  
  
{I am you; Princeling, and you shall be hearing more of me}  
  
To be continued.   
  
This chapter was strange, confusing, and too long. But still, please R&R! I need to hear from you! 


	24. In Need of Counsel

Author Notes: *Throws a huge party* Wow, did you see that? I got over 200 reviews *faints in the middle of the dance floor* Thank to every single one you that has left a little message concerning this story. It has meant the world to me, since this is my first LOTR story and I am slightly unsure of parts of it.  
  
And I send a warm hug to those readers that had walked with me on most chapters, if not all of them, until the latest ones. For those of you that did not like the pace, the turn of events or got so confused that have quit reading, thank you for being with me in the beginning, and I am sorry I could not reach your expectations.   
  
English is my second language so I apologize for any grammar or spelling mistakes made on this story. The quotes are taken from the book, which by a way of Disclaimer is not mine. And the elvish is most likely mistaken.  
  
*Big smile* A huge party, hugs, kisses and chocolate cookies to all of those that are still with me ^_^ For Erie and Kaeva for their lovely e-mails, here goes Chapter 24…(!!! 24!!! +_+)  
  
Master in Deceiving   
By Yours Truly  
  
Legolas closed his eyes in defeat when the company halted their advance on the land. They halted in a green-footed dale, beneath the Thorn bushes that grew thick upon the low banks. The sweet-scented earth brought to the hearts of all, the feeling of the approaching spring. But Legolas did not realize how the nature around them welcomed the company.   
  
The fight was becoming too much for his overloaded senses.   
  
He could not think straight, he half listened to the things being said, and his feelings were battling inside of his chest at every second. He tried to force his mind away from distraction, force it to focus upon the task at hand, to focus upon the increasing number of worried looks Aragorn was sending him, to focus upon the day, the sky…anything…but the second he managed to focus on one thing, his thoughts flew to another direction. This was a curse…it was the cruelest of torments for one who had always managed to keep some shred of control, and had fought for it every step of the way.  
  
{This is what feels like to loose, then} he thought sadly, but soon another thousand incoherent thoughts formed, erasing the previous one.  
  
They had rode away from Isengard when the sun was sinking behind the long western arm of the mountains. Gandalf had taken Merry behind him, and Aragorn had taken Pippin. While the wizard and the young hobbit spoke quietly, Legolas had rode in silence; barely aware that his eyes betrayed the inner chaos he was living. Aragorn had made a decision on this day; he was going to confront Legolas once more. From the determined look on Gimli's face he had reached the same decision. This had been going on for far too long, and now the elf barely spoke or barely seemed to even be aware of his surroundings. So it was when the company halted and everyone wearily descended from their mounts that the ranger approached his friend, followed closely by a very annoyed dwarf.   
  
Legolas dismounted gracefully and tried to loose himself on the preparations of this eve's camp. Walking swiftly and blindly between the men he sought out a silent corner and sat there when he found it. The song of nature reached his ears and he sighed trying desperately to control his wayward thoughts. Maybe if he just accepted the help of nature and embraced the quiet of this small corner he could…  
  
But the calming silence did not last long. "Legolas?" a familiar voice asked, and his blue eyes opened slowly.   
He was afraid to answer the man that stood in front of him, afraid of what he would say. If he could not control his thoughts, could he control his words?   
"Aye?" he answered neutrally, as his mortal friend sat next to him. Only then did he see Gimli standing a few paces ahead, and the dwarf too sat on the ground.   
  
"Tell me what is haunting you, my friend. Your eyes betray you on each day, and for too much time has this been going on. Your thoughts are troubled and we would like to help you" Aragorn said quietly, staring into the elven gaze that met his hesitantly.  
The elf shook his head and closed his eyes. With a sigh he opened his mouth to speak, and closed it once more. His thoughts were more than merely troubled. They were insane!  
  
{What am I doing here? What is here? Mirkwood Greenwood Rivendell Lothlórien Gondor…}  
{Legolas Lasgalen Laeglass Aragorn Estel Hope Greenleaf Gimli Théoden Gandalf Merry Pippin Meriadoc Peregrin Elrond Glorfindel Arwen Sauron Mithrandir Galadriel Haldir Orophin Rúmil Boromir…who am I?}   
{Maybe if I jump I will fall, perhaps if I hide I will be found, then if I cry I would be comforted, maybe if I talk they would worry and if I scream I would be noticed…}  
  
"Crazy elf!" Gimli growled, "Stop your staring into nothingness and answer our questions! What is it that has been haunting you for all this time? What is it that has made you retreat into yourself?"  
  
Legolas looked up in confusion, and his rational said just knew he was about so say something incoherent. His eyes stared into Gimli's and then stared into Aragorn's to then frown towards the ground. "But I did not say!" he exclaimed in surprise.  
  
Aragorn stared at him in silence, as did Gimli. Their twin expressions of confusion made the elf laugh quietly.   
  
"I did not say, I did not fall, I did not scream, I did not cry, I did not reach you, I did nothing, I am fighting alone and I am loosing but I did nothing to make you worry or to make you notice me or to make you comfort me. It makes no sense," Legolas said with a small smile. "That you would try to do all of those"  
  
"What are you talking about, Legolas?" Aragorn said slowly, as if speaking with a child, and Legolas laughed again at his tone.   
  
"I am much older than you Aragorn, do not treat me as a child. Even if by elven standards I am not exactly 'ancient' I am indeed your elder…but wait I am Sindar not an Eldar…ah, do not mind that. Do not speak as if I was a child…you did speak right?"  
  
Gimli stared at Legolas with a startled expression. Had the elf lost his mind? "Legolas, stop rambling so, you are making no sense…"  
"Neither are you" the elf supplied   
"Legolas…" The ranger began only to be interrupted by another laugh  
"Aragorn…"  
"Look, Prince of Mirkwood…"  
"What must I look at, heir to the throne of Gondor?"  
"What has happened to you?"  
"I think I might have lost" Legolas laughed, "You see, I was trying to win, but I was so tired…and now I lost…or maybe I won? I forgot what I was trying to win"  
  
"Legolas, look into my eyes" Aragorn said hurriedly and the elf rolled his eyes  
  
"Yes, oh King of men" He said with a sigh and met the ranger's gaze. Aragorn's eyes widened when he saw the storm playing in those blue orbs. The familiar glint of his friend ever present there, yet dimmed as if by a fog…as if by…magic?  
  
Legolas tilted his head to the side, staring at Aragorn, and then he tilted it to the other side, his golden hair following his movements over his shoulder blades. Then Legolas began to laugh, closing his right eye to then open it and close the left one. "You know, Aragorn, your eyes change color!" he announced with a smile.   
  
"Legolas focus. Just try to focus on me, all right? Try to focus on something…"   
  
There was a moment of silence and then Legolas sighed sadly "You think I have not tried this? All day I have been fighting for control and yet, my thoughts stray so easily that…" for a second his voice sounded sorrowful, yet his normal tone was calming to his friends. Legolas was still there. But then the elf laughed again "I see your eyes turn blue, then gray, then blue again, and then if I keep staring my sight blurs"   
  
Gimli, coming out of his silent stupor, and encouraged by the moment of normalcy the elf had just shown met the elf's gaze. Coming up with a plan he spoke deliberately slowly. "Legolas Thranduilion you have indeed lost your mind. What good can a lunatic elf like you do on this quest? It is not like you will be able to battle or anything else…much as a child you seem to me now"   
  
Aragorn cringed at the words. He knew that was a tender spot on his friend. He hated to be treated as incapable of handling himself, just as he hated being compared to a child. His father had done enough of that when the elf had been younger.   
  
Legolas' gaze went cold as ice, and his eyes could have frozen Mordor when he turned them on the dwarf. "What have you just said?" his voice hissed "you think me so dependant now? You think me weak? Very well, my *friend* I shall prove you that my knives and bow still work as they should…"  
"Legolas, do not…" but a shake of the dwarf's head made Aragorn stop. The ranger was worried, in this state of mind; Legolas could be very dangerous, indeed…  
"I have no intention of battling against a weakling such as you are now. Forget it, master elf, you better head towards your home now" With those parting words, Gimli turned away from the elf and began walking away. With a sound of alarm Aragorn warned him, and he was only vaguely shocked when two arrows landed directly at his feet. He looked up to meet Legolas' gaze, who now stood a few paces ahead. Damned be the speed of the elves…  
  
"Legolas, Prince of Mirkwood?" he said solemnly, meeting the cold eyes that were normally filled with laughter and song.   
  
"What?" the elf hissed back at him, even his voice betraying the anger he now held.  
  
"Welcome back" Gimli said with a grin. Legolas glared and moved towards him. Gimli began to fear he had merely trigged a crueler side to the gentle elf but when he approached, the dwarf could see the mischievous twinkle on the once again warm eyes.   
"Indeed" Legolas said, bending as if to pick up his arrows, only to kick Gimli's feet from beneath him, and then walk to settle once more on the spot he had vacated earlier, next to the now grinning Aragorn.  
  
Gimli growled, and stood up from the floor. Only to chuckle to himself when he saw the smile on Legolas' face. "I thank you, friend Gimli," the elf said after a moment, his face once again serious "emotion seems to be the key to this…curse…that plagues me"  
  
"Do you know what is it, Legolas? What has happened?"  
  
{If I told you it was the voice inside my head, Estel, you would probably behead me with your sword on the spot}  
{Aye, he most probably would, princeling}  
{Get away…you were not here…}  
{You were doing such a fine job yourself, but now I have indeed come back to help you}  
{To HELP me, you say?}  
{Aye…to help you, little one}  
  
  
Legolas' met his friend's gaze and shook his head solemnly. "Nay, Aragorn, I know not what plagues me"  
The ranger nodded and after a moment of silence, sighed. "Perhaps Gandalf would know how to help you…"  
  
"NAY!"  
  
The shout surprised both human and dwarf, who stared in silence at their elven comrade. Legolas seemed surprised himself, for his eyes were wide.  
  
{Nay, not again, let me out!}  
  
"Do not trouble Mithrandir with such things, Aragorn, I shall be able to figure this one out. Do not worry…it cannot be too serious" The elf said firmly, and the determined glint on his gaze hid the missing spark of life in them.  
Aragorn looked at him hard, and then sighed. "As you wish, Legolas, but if this shall happen again, I will tell him. You were lucky Gimli's plan had a good result…you could have killed him if it had not" The elf nodded in silence and both mortals stood up from the ground to seek rest. It was not possible to do so for Legolas…  
  
{Aye, Princeling, you could have killed him!}  
{Let me out, let me out, do not leave me in the dark, I do not wish to be in the dark…}  
{Weakling, and you call yourself a Prince. Afraid of the dark are you? Afraid of being alone, are you? Afraid of life… are you not, princeling? Afraid to live and be hurt?}  
  
Beyond any shield, any mask and any presence, the dying spark of life in elven eyes shuddered, as said eyes widened on a stoic face. Legolas' breathing quickened, as his senses grew suddenly sharp.  
  
{Well, you must face your fears, little one. Why do you not live a little, now? Feel the life and tell me if you fear it…tell me if you wish to be alive, to be outside. Really live on this night…and then let me know}  
  
"Nay…" Legolas whispered softly. The whisper was swallowed by the thousand sounds around him.  
  
The rustling of clothing as the men in the camp moved, their breathing, their heartbeat, their whispers, their conversations, their every detectable sound…the horses, the nature, the trees, the sky, the voices…so many voices at once…  
  
"Do you think we shall come back alive…what if…?" "Good night my father" "Eru give us victory in battle…" "Do you want some food? I have some bread left" "Everyone, rest! We have a long day on the morrow" "We will defeat the army, you shall see" "Those orcs good for nothing, they have no more brains than they have good looks" "What is it with that guy? He never approaches us…"  
  
He knew none of those voices… they were overwhelming him…and those were just the sounds. He could feel the smell of the earth, of the sweat, of the road, of the trees…he could see until the last of the leaves on the last tree on his eyesight, and he could discern the drop of sweat that traveled down the forehead of the soldier that stood at a fifteen-foot distance.   
  
He was scared, to put it mildly.   
  
{What is going on…what is this…}  
{Life!}  
  
He made a conscious effort to recognize the familiar sounds, to identify the known voices, the known sounds and the known patters of breathing. Slowly he managed to calm himself down, to enjoy the now louder sound of the song of nature…  
  
…And it was then that he heard him…and it was then that he saw him  
  
Pippin had walked softly to where Gandalf lay. At first Legolas saw him back down a bit, but then draw forward once more, as if against his will, the hobbit crept up again from behind the wizard's head. Mithrandir was rolled in a blanket, with his cloak spread over the top; and close beside him, between his right side and his bent arm, there was a hummock, something round…  
  
{Ah, yes} Legolas thought {The Stone…By Elbereth!}  
  
He tried to get to Pippin, to stop him, but his overloaded senses made of getting up quite a task. His surroundings blurred suddenly and he swayed on his feet. He reached out a hand towards where the hobbit now sat with the stone on his knees and his cloak around him but no sound came from his mouth.   
Pippin's increasing breathing reached his senses, and even as he fell on the ground once more, he tried to get up and stop him. Taking a deep breath, Legolas tried once more, and managed it, moving towards the hobbit that sat paralyzed by what was most likely fear. Taking one step towards the small form, he froze.  
  
Legolas was held captive by what he saw on the stone.  
  
Then Pippin cried out and the camp was alerted to his crime. Legolas, his eyes open wide, sat once more on the ground.  
  
What he had seen was not what he now could hear Pippin relating to Mithrandir. He had seen Sauron…he had seen the flaming eye…and it had been calling for him in a familiar voice he could not place.  
  
Without thinking he stood up and walked towards where the rest of the company was staring in silence at the talk between Gandalf and Pippin. Legolas looked into the now covered form of the Seeing Stone. And the haunting voice he had heard would not leave his thoughts  
  
{Legolas Son of Thranduil, Prince of Mirkwood. Come now, come closer, nothing to fear on this side. Nothing to fear on the ever-present darkness, come now, come closer…}  
  
Legolas shook his head, and with effort, controlled his ragged breathing. Schooling his features neutral as he saw Mithrandir approaching Aragorn. The wizard gave him a passing glance, which seemed suspicious to the keen eyes of Legolas. Gandalf asked Aragorn to guard the Stone, and to the surprise of all, uncovered it to present it to the heir of the throne. Legolas was not prepared. The eye was there and it was staring at him, it was fixed on him, looking inside of him, stripping him bare…it was calling him…  
  
{Legolas Thranduilion, teli…} (Legolas son of Thranduil, come)  
  
His senses slowly dimmed, slowly turned off until they were back to normal. He felt deaf and blind and mute and numb for a few seconds as his body got used to the change, and during those seconds his thoughts raced…  
  
{It is impossible, it is my imagination…. That had been elvish, Sauron would not speak elvish, he despises elves, and he hates our light, our language the very sight of us. That was elvish, and I am an elf, what could Sauron wish of me, what is this treachery, this foolishness…I am just loosing my mind, nothing real. This is not real…}  
  
With a start he realized the air of evil that surrounded them, as a winged shape of darkness passed above them, blocking to his eyes the glittering light of the stars.   
  
"Nazgûl!" Gandalf cried. "The messenger of Mordor. The storm is coming. The Nazgûl have crossed the River! Ride, ride! Wait not for the dawn! Let not the swift wait for the slow! Ride!"  
  
And then in a blur of movement, Gandalf was on top of Shadowfax; Aragorn lifted Pippin and set him in Gandalf's arms, wrapped in cloak and blanket.  
"Farewell! Follow fast!" cried Gandalf. "Away, Shadowfax!"  
  
The great horse tossed his head. His flowing tail flicked in the moonlight. Then he leapt forward, spurning the earth, and was gone like the north wind from the mountains.  
  
Legolas stared at the disappearing shadow in silence, and with a mournful tear he whispered to the night air, his whisper swallowed by the sounds of the camp being lifted.  
  
"Mithrandir…Im baurle si…Im baur gûr…Mithrandir?" (Mithrandir…I need thee now…I need counsel…Mithrandir?)  
  
To be continued   
  
Please R&R, I need to know if you are still with me! Please? 


	25. Arrivals from the North

Disclaimer: I barely own myself…actually I *don't* own myself…no chance in owning Lord of the Rings.  
  
Author Notes: *faints* So many reviews I could never have dreamed of! Thank you each and every one of you!!! I am coming out of a horrible writer's block; so don't expect much from me.   
  
English is my second language so I apologize for any grammar or spelling mistakes made on this story. Elvish is the way I believe it to be, most likely mistaken. Quotes were taken from the book written by Master Tolkien with my own lines in between. Please R&R and help to bring a smile for the desperate (ME!!)  
  
Here we go into The Return of the King…(WHAT?!?!?!)  
  
And now, Chapter 25, written with love to everyone who has read & reviewed, with a special dedication to Kaeva and to Bill the Pony (My nice reviewer, not the actual pony *Grin*).  
  
Master in Deceiving  
By Yours Truly  
  
{I'm lost}  
{You see it now?}  
{Aye}  
{Can you feel the void now, little one?}  
{Aye}  
{Will you let me help you?}  
{Nay…}  
  
Gandalf was gone, and the thudding hoofs of Shadowfax were lost in the night, when Merry came back to Aragorn. Legolas noticed that he carried no pack but only a light bundle, and a memory of Parth Galen came to mind. The little one had probably lost it there. Hasufel was already saddled as Aragorn waited for Merry. Legolas and Gimli with their horse stood close by, as the elf's thoughts raced in numbing fear. He disconnected himself from his thoughts, feeling the dread on his heart but ignoring it, looking through indifferent eyes as the night kept on advancing.  
  
{You cannot run from the truth, little elf}  
{Nay, I cannot, now will I try to…}  
{Then what do you do? play hide and seek inside your mind? face the truth …face it all…}  
{I do not wish to! I cannot right now it is too much!}  
{Ooh, is it now, you weakling? Face it! It cannot overwhelm you unless you are truly the disgrace you know you are. You wish to prove yourself? Then stop running like a child…just stop and face everything}  
{Why do you help me?}  
{Face it all}  
{It feels like too much, I feel dread when I think of fighting against this darkness…against whatever I really saw in the Palantir… I feel so tired, so thin inside…}  
{Face it…}  
  
"So four of the Company still remain," said Aragorn; breaking into the trance that Legolas had slipped into. "We will ride on together. But we shall not go alone, as I thought. The king is now determined to set out at once. Since the coming of the winged shadow, he desires to return to the hills under cover of night."  
  
When Aragorn said the word 'shadow', Legolas shuddered and visualized a battlefield in his mind's eye. Thousand of armies of the dark creatures of Mordor stood on one side, with the other side desolate, only filled with the scattered corpses of familiar faces and with a lone standing figure…him. Bloodied and barely alive, he stood there among so many dead…  
  
"And then whither?" said Legolas, an urgent tone creeping into his voice as he tried to distract himself from the images playing in his mind.   
  
"I cannot say yet," Aragorn answered softly, eyeing his friend carefully. "As for the king, he will go to the muster that he commanded at Edoras, four nights from now. And there, I think, he will hear tidings of war, and the Riders of Rohan will go down to Minas Tirith. But for myself, and any that will go with me… "  
  
{Do not leave me alone!}  
  
Panic made his voice work, and he interrupted Aragorn in mid sentence "I for one!" cried the elf, who was hardly surprised when he heard his friend's voice speak then.   
"And Gimli with him!" said the Dwarf.  
  
"Well, for myself," said Aragorn with a small half smile, "it is dark before me. I must go down also to Minas Tirith, but I do not yet see the road. An hour long prepared approaches."  
  
{Indeed it does, does it not little Prince? The hour approaches…take your weapons, take your armor, and walk into the battlefield…c'mon little elf, you do not want your friends to be butchered without you, do you, now?}  
  
Trembling, the whisper of his own voice and the image of blood on his friends and family, were enough to make Legolas wish to step back, to almost crave for the darkness he so rightly feared earlier.   
  
{I am losing without even fighting…}  
{Face it now it is time!}  
{Nay it is not! It cannot be, you hear me? It cannot be time yet I am not ready…}  
{Since when does war await one warrior?}  
{Since the warrior started the war in question!}  
{Now, little one…who says you started it?}  
{What?}  
  
Silence  
  
{What? Who did then? What did you say?}  
  
Silence, dimmed by Aragorn and Merry's conversation in the background…in the real world…  
  
Then true silence, and it frightened Legolas enough to look for the voices and breathing of his friends on the outside, shaking his head to clear it he turned back to the people around him. He saw the riders mounting their horses, and following the example, he then helped Gimli to settle behind him.   
  
Looking around, he ached for the strong presence of the wizard that had rode on earlier, with the young unfortunate hobbit on his horse. The void was growing inside of him, and the thought that soon all his friends might leave him on the real world as well, made his heart shudder inside his breast.   
  
{Onto war we all go…but whose war?!}  
  
Soon all were ready to depart: twenty-four horses, with Gimli behind Legolas, and Merry in front of Aragorn. They rode now, in the night without conversations between the men. It suited Legolas mood just fine that there would be no talk. His mind was not set upon the weather, and he needed no reminding of the horrors yet to come. They had not long passed the mounds at the Fords of Isen, when a Rider galloped up from the rear of their line.  
  
"My lord," the man said to the king, "there are horsemen behind us. As we crossed the fords I thought that I heard them. Now we are sure. They are overtaking us, riding hard."  
  
Fear gripped at his heart, and for a delusional second, Legolas thought the riders came for him. It was then that the elf feared to loose the grasp on his mind once more, knowing well that in battle he could not afford such lunacies.   
  
{In no battle can you afford that, little one…}  
{Leave me be! Leave me be at once, I can listen to your riddles no longer}  
{Who are you to command me, little one?}  
{The owner of the mind you are tormenting}  
{You mean 'helping'…}  
  
Théoden at once called a halt. The Riders turned about and seized their spears. Aragorn dismounted and set Merry on the ground, and drawing his sword he stood by the king's stirrup. Éomer and his esquire rode back to the rear as the elf felt a hand on his shoulder. Turning to see the dwarf's eyes, Legolas gave him a questioning look.   
  
"Help me down, elf, I have no desire to try and wield my axe while on this beast. I might still kill whatever comes, yet I might also kill the elf in front of me"  
  
Legolas nodded and helped his friend to dismount, grinning down at him when he was upon the ground. "And you do *not* want to kill the elf in front of you?"  
  
"Well, if you have a death wish, I suppose it would be my duty to comply…" Gimli teased with mock seriousness, missing the lightening quick flash of longing that appeared on the elf's features at his words.   
  
"I will be sure to let you know, when that happens Master dwarf" Legolas answered softly with a half-hearted wink. Gimli just shook his head and turned to face the approaching shadows of the riders, just visible on the path from the fords. The moonlight glinted here and there on the points of spears. The number of the pursuers could not be told, but they seemed no fewer than the king's escort, at the least.  
  
Each sound of the hoofs from the oncoming horses made Legolas' heart beat a little faster, until he was certain that it would explode from his chest in a bloody scene. Trying to calm himself down, he tried visualizing that scene, and the surprise on his friend's faces if his heart were actually to blow out of him…with a shake of his head at the stupid image, Legolas focused back on the shadows.   
  
When they were some fifty paces off, Éomer cried in a loud voice: "Halt! Halt! Who rides in Rohan?"  
The pursuers brought their steeds to a sudden stand. A silence followed, and Legolas wished he could shout, just to break it. He could see what mortal eyes could not. These were men, who were eyeing them with the same distrust that the King's men were eyeing them.   
  
A man could be seen dismounting and walking slowly forward. His hand showed white as he held it up, palm outward, in token of peace; but the king's men gripped their weapons. So did Legolas, taking aim with his bow towards the man's heart. At ten paces away the man stopped. And his clear voice broke the long silence.  
  
"Rohan? Rohan did you say? That is a glad word. We seek that land in haste from long afar." Legolas relaxed his arm and strapped his bow on his back once more, ignoring Gimli's bewildered look. He knew what he was doing, for he had recognized the voice.   
  
"You have found it," said Éomer, still unaware if these were foes they faced. "When you crossed the fords yonder you entered it. But it is the realm of Théoden the King. None ride here save by his leave. Who are you? And what is your haste?"  
  
"Halbarad Dúnadan, Ranger of the North I am," cried the man, confirming what Legolas already knew, the man had gone to Mirkwood on a few occasions, and Legolas had known well that it had been him. "We seek one Aragorn son of Arathorn, and we heard that he was in Rohan."  
  
"And you have found him also!" cried Aragorn. Giving his reins to Merry, the man ran forward and embraced the newcomer. "Halbarad!" he said. "Of all joys this is the least expected!"  
  
Legolas searched the crowd of new arrivals, for he believed he had seen two faces…or perhaps only one, if you gave it thought, that had seemed pleasantly familiar.   
  
"All is well," said Aragorn, turning back towards them and making Legolas' eyes focus on his friend once more. "Here are some of my own kin from the far land where I dwelt. But why they come, and how many they be, Halbarad shall tell us."  
  
"I have thirty with me," answered Halbarad. "That is all of our kindred that could be gathered in haste; but the brethren Elladan and Elrohir have ridden with us, desiring to go to the war. We rode as swiftly as we might when your summons came."  
  
Legolas smiled and turned his gaze back towards the group, where he now could see the twins among the men. Both half-elves had seen him and nodded in his direction. He nodded back and saw the quick grins on their now so serious faces.   
  
{More elves…}  
{…What about it?}  
{Nothing, little one, it is nothing more than another distraction for you to hide from your battle}  
  
"But I did not summon you," said Aragorn, his voice surprised "save only in wish. My thoughts have often turned to you, and seldom more than tonight; yet I have sent no word. But come! All such matters must wait. You find us riding in haste and danger. Ride with us now, if the king will give his leave."  
  
Théoden seemed indeed glad of the news. "It is well!" he said. "If these kinsmen be in any way like to yourself, my lord Aragorn, thirty such knights will be a strength that cannot be counted by heads."  
  
Aragorn had never been good with praise; Legolas thought absentmindedly when he saw the man bow his head away from sight, and turn towards the Dúnedain again. The elf helped the dwarf to mount behind him again, and then the Riders set out again, Aragorn for a while rode with the Dúnedain, speaking of things Legolas had no desire to overhear. The night was old when they rode up at last from Deeping-coomb and came back to the Hornburg. There they were to lie and rest for a brief while and take counsel.  
  
Legolas looked around and shook his head. Only three days had passed since he had been here, battling against seemingly endless hordes of orcs. Now all was silent, and more things troubled this mind than the last time he had stood on this ground. With a sigh he turned away from these thoughts and walked towards where a group of people stood.  
  
Two pair of familiar eyes stared at him, and although he felt a great desire to be with friends of old, he also feared whatever conversation he and the twins he could see a few meters away might have. Keen were the eyes pf the elves, and he had not been faced to them up until now…  
  
Would they see?  
  
{Will they see the battle I fear…the inner turmoil I attempt to hide?}  
{Will you be capable of handling this lie once more, Princeling?}  
{I know not…}  
{Little one, you must} The voice hissed suddenly, and fear gripped Legolas' heart. {You must…you better…}  
  
To be continued.  
  
How was it? Please let me know, I just came out of a very annoying writer's block not to mention I wrote this between loads of work…Please R&R! 


	26. Inner Realizations

Author Notes: I…don't know what to say! I have over 250 reviews, which is more than I could have ever hoped for. Thank you every single one of you, and be assured that you shall get a personal thanks when this story is finished. My final author note shall be for all of you!   
  
English is my second language, so I apologize for any grammar or spelling mistakes made on the course of this story. I have taken any quotes from the books by J.R Tolkien adding my own lines in-between. Please R&R, this story shall soon be over, and I wish to see just how many reviews I can get *Smile*   
  
Also, since I have something close to 4 chapters left, I wish to start the correction of each chapter. Is anyone out there willing to help me with the grammar?  
  
As shameless publicity I am going to announce that I am co-writing a story with 'Minka', named "Distorted Reality", it is an AU with Elladan, Elrohir, Legolas and Aragorn as the main characters, very angst and action filled, just like we both like it *Grin* If you're interested in reading, then please go to my favorite author page and you will see our joint account there.   
  
Now, onto chapter 26…  
  
Master in Deceiving  
By Yours Truly  
  
{You must…you better}  
  
Before he could think of the implications of the hiss inside his thoughts, he found himself in front of two identical faces, both of which were smiling at him pleasantly. He felt his stomach churn as he forced dark thoughts from his mind.  
  
"Legolas of Mirkwood, long has it been since our last meeting" Elrohir said while he embraced the prince, stepping away to leave room for his brother. Elladan embraced Legolas as well, and the elf prince smiled at them both, hoping it would somehow reach his eyes.   
  
"Indeed it has, my friends. You have not graced Mirkwood with your presence in years, and duty has given me little time to visit Rivendell before the Council" Legolas answered, as he let Elrohir lead the way towards a corner away from the men.  
  
Elladan gave the prince a curious look, and Legolas knew he was about to remember just how straight forward the other elf could be. "What troubles you, Legolas? The last time we saw you, your pose was not rigid as I see it now, and I see a pain in your eyes that had not tormented you then"  
Elrohir gave his brother a look, which his twin ignored, as he focused calm eyes on the blond elf in front of him. Legolas sighed and glanced from one to the other, knowing now was the time to prove if he could lie.  
  
{Lie, lie to them you weakling, you already admitted weakness to Haldir and to his brothers, Lady Galadriel has seen it as well. Aragorn and Gimli barely trust you now…do you wish to loose the twins' friendship as well? Just because you're too weak, too much of a coward?}  
{Would it not be cowardly to lie and hide?}  
{Not when your life is at stake, Princeling, not when you will feel grief upon your heart as soon as you see their disapproving gazes}  
{I am still a coward}  
{Aye, you are…}  
  
"Nothing troubles me Elladan" Legolas said at last, meeting the eyes that studied him with as much honesty as he could muster "The war and the bloodshed, the pull of the ring on a friend and the hardships of the fellowship have given me pain, with no time for grieving for it all. It has been overwhelming…which I believe is the reason I must look different to your eyes"  
  
"Nay, Legolas" Elrohir interrupted softly "If you do not wish to tell us, you can keep your thoughts to yourself, but you would offend us if you continue to lie to our faces. Pain and grief…and something else lurks in your eyes…"  
  
Legolas looked down and sighed, "I wish I could tell you…" he murmured  
  
"What stops you?" Elladan questioned softly, searching the blue gaze that refused to meet his.   
  
{The voice on my head} he thought mockingly  
  
"Duty and a greater concern than my own troubled thoughts," Legolas said, meeting their eyes again "War comes now…I can grieve later"  
  
Elrohir nodded and after a pause he spoke again "Just one question"  
  
Legolas nodded his permission  
  
"Are you alright?"  
  
{Nay, nay I'm not, I'm not, I'm not!} His mind sobbed in vain, as his mouth curved in a gentle smile on the outside.  
  
"Aye, my friends…nothing time will not heal"  
  
{Is that so? You think with time your problems shall fade away? That if you wait long enough, the battle may never have to be fought?}  
{Aye…nay…nay…I know not…}  
{Do not dream, little one. One's problems do not fade away}  
  
Elladan and Elrohir seemed unconvinced but the twins respected whatever reason Legolas had to keep silent, for they had no further reason to worry for his welfare in the time being. Legolas sighed in relief, and thanked Elbereth that the both of them had not arrived earlier in their travels, for they would have seen the madness that had threatened to consume him…that still was threatening him, to some extent.   
  
He quickly turned the conversation into more pleasant matters, and in the midst of the camp they spoke of what had come to pass during the time they had been separated. Without realizing it; they had switched back to elvish and several curious stares were directed their way, for most of these riders were not used to the musical language that flowed easily between the three.  
  
Time flew by, and soon Legolas knew that it was time to go check on his mortal friends. With a smile and a mock bow, he walked away from the twins, looking for any of the other familiar faces. He soon spotted Gimli, sharpening his axe in silent concentration. Legolas went and sat next to him, without saying anything, content with merely resting his mind away from the voice and away from his conscience, the latter of which was begging him to talk with someone…anyone…be it the twins of the next rider or Rohan he spotted.   
  
When the noise from the axe stopped, Legolas turned to find Gimli's eyes trained upon him, searching for answers that not even Legolas had. The elf smiled at the dwarf, ignoring the unspoken questions hanging between them.  
  
"I thought you would never notice me, Master dwarf, I was starting to consider throw an arrow at your head so you would know I was here"  
  
Gimli shook his head, knowing full well what Legolas was doing. "Elf, why don't we go and find Merry? It shall soon be time for a meal, and I doubt the little one will be willing to miss that"  
  
Glad that the dwarf did not voice any of the painfully obvious things to say, Legolas nodded as he gracefully leapt to his feet, training his eyes around the camp to spot the mop of curls that would belong a to a hobbit. Seeing it, he walked in its direction, hearing Gimli walk calmly beside him. The hobbit was asleep, and dead to the world, but the elf was unwilling to talk much with Gimli alone, afraid that he would have to face some of the things he had wanted to hide from, at least for some time…  
  
{You see, little weakling? Running and hiding and lying, those seem like the only things you know well how to do}  
  
Kneeling next to the sleeping form, Legolas woke him gently, shaking Merry's shoulder with a friendly grip.   
  
"The Sun is high," said Legolas. "All others are up and doing. Come, Master Sluggard, and look at this place while you may!"  
  
{The time is coming, little elf, you cannot hide in games and jokes, you cannot hide in fear and lack of courage…you simply cannot hide}  
  
"There was a battle here three nights ago," said Gimli to the hobbit that stared sleepily at him, "and here Legolas and I played a game that I won only by a single orc. Come and see how it was! And there are caves, Merry, caves of wonder! Shall we visit them, Legolas, do you think?"  
  
{Caves? How appropriate, do you not think little elf? Caves make wonderful tombs}   
  
"Nay! There is no time," said the Elf with a calm voice that betrayed none of the terror the whisper brought in him. "Do not spoil the wonder with haste! I have given you my word to return hither with you, if a day of peace and freedom comes again. But it is now near to noon, and at that hour we eat, and then set out again, I hear."  
  
Legolas watched as Merry got up slowly, getting dressed with no hurry. He could see as clearly as the day that Merry missed Pippin, but there was nothing to be done about it. He wished he could reassure the hobbit in someway, but how could he? If he was afraid that his friends might leave him behind, later, how could he tell Merry everything was fine, now that Pippin had gone ahead of him? He would feel the same, if not far worse than Merry if the positions were reversed, and he did not know how to appease the hurt that this had caused on the hobbit.   
  
"Where is Aragorn?" Merry asked.  
"In a high chamber of the Burg," answered Legolas softly. "He has neither rested nor slept, I think. He went thither some hours ago, saying that he must take thought, and only his kinsman, Halbarad, went with him; but some dark doubt or care sits on him."  
  
{I will tell you of his dark doubt, little one} The voice suddenly hissed roughly, making Legolas' breathing hitch, luckily or maybe unluckily for him, not loud enough for his companions to hear {He doubts he can trust his best friend, he doubts your sanity, your strength! He doubts your every move, and he watches you carefully, waiting for your fall; awaiting the moment that he will have to kill you, to finish the threat that you represent}  
{Stop this…}  
{You know it is true, little Prince…}  
{I know nothing!}  
{You know everything…} The voice laughed, and suddenly, it was his voice no longer {You know everything, and you shall know more…you shall be aware of the extent of damage you can cause…you shall come to be familiar with the bigger side of you, the side you have repressed…}  
  
The hiss was familiar, terrifying and seductive all at once, sounding as an invitation to open doors never before seen…as the temptation he no longer thought he could fight…   
  
{What side?} His voice was no longer that of a warrior, but that of a child, and he could hear laughter ringing in his ears. Barely managing to do so, he followed the conversation going on in the outside, while forcing his mind to grasp his one opportunity for answers.   
  
He needed to know…but could he…?  
  
{The side that came up the first time you slain an orc, even while you knew its brethren was once the same as yours. You remember, don't you little one? Remember your reaction? Your delight?}  
{What…}  
{Remember your laughter?}  
  
And he could…he remembered it clearly. The orc lay slain before him, a pool of black blood spilling on the grass, and even with the knowledge that this creatures' ancestors had been elves, he had smiled…he had laughed softly, to himself, a cold empty laugh that now shook him to the bone.   
  
{That is no side of me…that was…I was…my first war party, my first kill…I was a warrior then…}  
{And you are a warrior now, and still you enjoy it, don't you princeling? Enjoy the rush, the power and the strength that you undergo…you still laugh, don't you?}  
{Nay! I do not!}  
{You still smile don't you?}  
{Nay, nay, nay! Do not say such things, they are nothing but deception!}  
{Are they?}  
{Stop this! These are times of war!}  
{And don't you enjoy the prospect? Doesn't it enlighten your heart to know you shall feel the power once more?}  
{Nay…nay…Mirkwood might be in danger, my people might suffer if we fail this. If we fail in this war of men…}  
{Aye, princeling, 'tis a war of men. What do you do in here, then? Why do you fight if not by your own sardonic pleasure? You know Gimli fights out of duty, just as he knows that he enjoys a good battle…but you? You feel pleasure from it…}  
{Nay!}  
{Open your eyes, little one…see the truth…}  
{Please…}  
{Do not beg noting of me, little one…'tis only you…}  
  
"…Word came to Rivendell, they say: 'Aragorn has need of his kindred. Let the Dúnedain ride to him in Rohan!' But whence this message came they are now in doubt. Gandalf sent it, I would guess" Gimli was saying and Legolas found logic among his inner distractions.  
"Nay, Galadriel," said the elf softly. "Did she not speak through Gandalf of the ride of the Grey Company from the North?"  
"Yes, you have it," said Gimli. "The Lady of the Wood! She read many hearts and desires. Now why did not we wish for some of our own kinsfolk, Legolas?"  
  
Legolas stood before the gate and turned his bright eyes away north and east, his thoughts filled with anxiety and desperation. A pang of guilt of realization made his heart shudder in his chest, and his fair face was now visibly troubled. "I do not think that any would come," he answered. "They have no need to ride to war; war already marches on their own lands."  
  
The three companions marched onwards, after the discouraging words of the elf. Gimli did not contradict his words, for he knew his elven companion's thoughts were troubled, but now he felt distressed. Was it a shadow he had seen in Legolas' eyes as he spoke? Was it truly darkness what now was hidden behind deep blue eyes?  
  
They went to the midday meal in the hall of the Burg, where the King was already seated. The man called Merry to his side, leaving Gimli and Legolas behind, sharing a silence loaded with emotions. Finally the dwarf gave up in trying to ignore his doubts and fears; opening his mouth to question the elf, he closed it once more when he noticed the far away look in his companion' countenance.   
  
{Acknowledge your true nature, little elf…}  
{True nature…I do not know of what you speak…}  
{You can fool them all, but me, little one, acknowledge your real thoughts, everything you feel behind the façade of nobility. You have not a righteous bone in your body!}  
{Just leave me be…}  
{Answer something, little one}  
{I do not wish to!}  
{But you shall}  
{I…I shall…}  
{Good, little one. Answer something for me now…Do you not like the sight of blood?}  
{W-What?!…That…I…nay! Of course not! How could I-?}  
{Answer truthfully…}  
{That vile substance is foul! Of course I do not like it…so dark and thick…}   
{Not Orcan blood, little one…your own…your life force, deep red and so rich…}  
{I…I…I do not wish to think of this, I do not wish to-}  
{ANSWER ME!}  
  
Gimli was flabbergasted when a small sound escaped the silent elf…a whimper…so soft it would have been his imagination, but the endless pools of blue on his friend's pale face spoke of grief beyond anyone's knowledge.   
  
{Aye}  
  
The dwarf assumed the elf had been listening the King's conversation, when the man had told Merry he should ride with him. Sympathetic to the grief of separation, Gimli placed a hand gently on the elf's shoulder and Legolas was shaken away from his musings, loosing the concentration he needed to focus on his inner conflict. Placing a fake smile upon his lips, he turned to Gimli and nodded his head in silent thanks, for whatever had possessed the dwarf to try and comfort him. Legolas feared his thoughts would soon become too obvious to ignore, even on the outside…  
  
Then, Éomer came out from the gate, and with him was Aragorn, and Halbarad bearing the great staff close-furled in black, and two tall men, neither young nor old. So much alike were they, the sons of Elrond, that few could tell them apart: dark-haired, grey-eyed, and their faces elven-fair, clad alike in bright mail beneath cloaks of silver-grey. Behind them walked Legolas and Gimli in grim silence, whose faces sobered even further when they saw the change in Aragorn. The man was exhausted and burdened beyond what was healthy…almost beyond what was possible. Legolas felt his heart constrict when he saw his friend in this state, and his guilt was immense when he thought in how much of that weariness might come from his friend's worry for his welfare.   
  
The man walked towards the King's horse and spoke with the royal man, as Merry looked and listened to the worrying words being spoken. The elf saw this happen yet he did not come close, content with being able to see what was transpiring. He needed no further burdens…he could not afford to concern himself with every detail any longer…he could barely handle anything on his current state of mind. Doubts, fears and horrible truths slapped him in the face, without anything new being added to the mix. There was enough inside of him to make him wish to stay away from further complications.   
  
Yet when Aragorn walked back to the table of the Hall in silent mourning, and Legolas could see that the King's men and the little Merry had departed, he could worry about himself no longer, choosing instead to focus his attentions on his dear friend, over his own crumbling thoughts.   
  
The silence stretched on until it was no longer bearable, and Legolas finally spoke "Come!" said Legolas at last. "Speak and be comforted, and shake off the shadow! What has happened since we came back to this grim place in the grey morning?"  
  
"A struggle somewhat grimmer for my part than the battle of the Hornburg," answered Aragorn, looking up to meet his friend's gaze. "I have looked in the Stone of Orthanc, my friends."  
  
The elf froze and the breath left him in a rush, blissfully covered by Gimli's voice as he exclaimed his weariness at the mention of the stone. Legolas looked down onto the table and blocked out the conversation between his friends' as he tried to collect his thoughts into some semblance of order and calm.  
  
{The stone…}  
{What did you see there, young one?}  
{The…the…}  
{Your doom, was it not?}  
{My fate?}  
{Aye}  
{How-nay…why?}  
{Do you not ride to face the Dark Lord…or do you ride to war and bloodshed?}  
{I know not…I know nothing, any longer!}  
{You know too well…that is your dilemma}  
  
"The Paths of the Dead!" said Gimli loudly, startling Legolas out of his thought, once more. "It is a fell name; and little to the liking to the Men of Rohan, as I saw. Can the living use such a road and not perish? And even if you pass that way, what will so few avail to counter the strokes of Mordor?"  
  
"The living have never used that road since the coming of the Rohirrim," said Aragorn gravely, studying the faces of his friends "for it is closed to them. But in this dark hour the heir of Isildur may use it, if he dare. Listen! This is the word that the sons of Elrond bring to me from their father in Rivendell, wisest in lore: Bid Aragorn remember the words of the seer, and the Paths of the Dead."  
"And what may be the words of the seer?" asked Legolas evenly, unaffected unlike Gimli with the course they were to take.  
"Thus spoke Malbeth the Seer, in the days of Arvedui, last king at Fornost,' said Aragorn:  
  
Over the land there lies a long shadow,  
Westward reaching wings of darkness.  
The Tower trembles; to the tombs of kings  
Doom approaches. The Dead awaken;  
For the hour is come for the oathbreakers;  
At the Stone of Erech they shall stand again  
And hear there a horn in the hills ringing.  
Whose shall the horn be? Who shall call them  
From the prey twilight, the forgotten people?  
The heir of him to whom the oath they swore.  
From the North shall he come, need shall drive him:  
He shall pass the Door to the Paths of the Dead.  
  
"Dark ways doubtless," said Gimli, and Legolas nodded to himself "but no darker than these staves are to me."  
"If you would understand them better, then I bid you come with me," said Aragorn, looking pointedly at each of them, lingering his grey gaze upon his elven friend; "for that way I now shall take. But I do not go gladly; only need drives me. Therefore, only of your free will would I have you come, for you will find both toil and great fear, and maybe worse."  
  
This time there was no mistake on whom was Aragorn addressing his words to, for his gaze was fully concentrated on the troubled blue gaze of Legolas who seemed distant, and unaffected by this new turn of events. Aragorn wished to make his friend understand the perils they now stood against, yet Legolas remained passive, and answered his gaze with a subtle nod.   
  
  
"I will go with you even on the Paths of the Dead, and to whatever, end they may lead," said Gimli, watching the interchange with Legolas without interrupting.  
  
"I also will come," said Legolas determinately, his voice betraying none of his doubts "for I do not fear the Dead."  
  
Aragorn seemed pained by his answer, obviously wishing to protect the elf, and Legolas found himself angry with his friend. Shaking off his feelings as inappropriate he looked away from the eyes studying him, unwilling to let the rage inside of him grow into anything further, and force him to take out his frustration on the ranger. The heir of Gondor nodded, and began to explain the story behind the army of the dead, and their link with Isildur that had survived long centuries, Legolas barely listening as he forced his features into a calm he did not feel.  
  
{You feel it growing inside, little one? The fury? The feelings you suppress every time…the feelings that shall soon wake…}  
{Silence!}  
{Do not dare to command me, little one…I am you, and you are…mine…}  
{I am not…}  
{Are you not, now? Do you not belong to yourself?}  
{I…I…Do not confuse me, I am…}  
{Do not command me, princeling…}  
{I-I'm sorry…}  
{Good little one…very good, indeed}  
  
Aragorn stood up, and Legolas looked up at him with suddenly mild eyes. "Come!" the ranger cried, drawing his sword, and it flashed in the twilit hall of the Burg. "To the Stone of Erech! I seek the Paths of the Dead. Come with me who will!"  
  
Legolas and Gimli made no answer, but they rose and followed Aragorn from the hall, Legolas focusing his eyes upon the ground. The voice did not lie…for if he was not the owner of his own thoughts…were his thoughts the owner of him?  
  
On the green there waited, still and silent, the hooded Rangers. Legolas and Gimli mounted. Aragorn sprang upon Roheryn. Then Halbarad lifted a great horn, and the blast of it echoed in Helm's Deep; and with that they leapt away, riding down the Coomb like thunder, while all the men that were left on Dike or Burg stared in amaze.  
  
To be continued  
  
Please R&R, I need to know if this was worth the wait…and mostly if this is making sense to someone that is not myself… 


	27. Distressing Satisfaction

Disclaimer: *Rolls on the floor laughing* …so…no, not mine…  
  
Author Notes: Last I saw, I had reached 280 reviews, and I have no words to thank you all, but I shall find them by my final author note, when all of you who supported me through the chapters will get my personal thank you. Please, if you can, continue to review this story and make the writings of the last 4 (or so) chapters easier and hopefully faster. My gold was to end this by my birthday, but I couldn't manage thanks to the horrible Real Life…  
  
IMPORTANT NOTE: This chapter will probably be the last update in a considerable amount of time, since after this, I found myself officially stuck! I'll try and work my best to get the next chapter up soon, but I guarantee nothing. I tried to have something of the next chapter written by the time I posted this, but it soon became obvious that I would keep you waiting for too long if I did.   
  
Also, in my hurry, I really had no time to double check this chapter for mistakes, so it must have a couple of extra ones…  
  
A big thank you goes out to my newfound Beta who will start helping me to fix this whole thing soon! I will post the final and grammar-checked version of this story along with the last chapter of the aforementioned.   
  
Enjoy!  
  
Master in Deceiving  
By Yours Truly  
  
On this day, as the Grey Company kept on moving towards Edoras, Legolas seemed to have regained some shred of control. He was tranquil and focused upon the task at hand, unwilling to allow feeling to rule over his actions. Yet, as time moved forward, it was becoming extremely difficult to pretend everything was fine, and the exaggerated calm he irradiated at these times of war managed to be anything but convincing…most of all to the one whose eyes had never left the Elf and the source of the Prince's current predicament.   
  
Aragorn.  
  
Aragorn, Son of Arathorn, who had been watching over Legolas like a hawk, with eyes filled with concern and some twisted sense of understanding that Legolas loathed to see.   
  
{He cannot understand}  
  
What added to the burden the Elf carried, was the voice again. Not attacking him this time, not confusing him further, but doing something that frightened the Elf to the very core, more than anything else he had so far faced.   
  
The voice now sounded…pleased…  
  
And the fact Legolas himself now found calm in this new turn of events was the hardest part of all. He hated himself for the knowledge that every event was intertwined, that every burden was the chain reaction that had begun for one reason only. Had begun for his own weakness. And with every breath he took and every step he moved this knowledge was enough to overwhelm whatever strength he tried to cling onto.   
  
Whatever the consequences of this, the voice was pleased, and although pained, Legolas was composed…and angry…increasingly angry.   
  
Angry at the voice for being a hidden part of himself he had never wanted to meet, angry at himself for being weak enough to let this happen, angry at his friends for they still didn't know what ailed and hence they could not help him, angry at himself again, for not being able to tell them of this…  
  
Angry most of all, at Aragorn for giving him an overprotection that was not what he needed, that was only aggravating him…angry at Aragorn for…for…  
  
{For dragging you into this, Princeling?}   
{Nay…}  
{For him being the real cause behind all of this? Because these are Aragorn's lands and this is Aragorn's war? Because you're in the middle of all that is painful?}  
{Nay…}  
{Admit you need someone to blame}  
{I never denied it}  
{Then deny my allegations no further! For you know them to be true, do you not little one? You need someone, something that is not yourself to blame for all this pain?}  
{I deny nothing, then}  
{Then you finally do what's right, little one…you are finally seeing reason}  
{Am I?}  
{Aye, you are…you see what is true now…you shall soon feel as you should, as well}  
  
The Grey Company continued with its course, not halting for the confusion lurking beneath the blue orbs of the only elf in the group, riding on for a day and more until they reached Edoras. Soft lips gone dry curved into the ghost of a sad smile as they descended upon they one they found in the Palace, for there stood Éowyn, Lady of the Mark, graced by great beauty and courage, whose gaze found its delight upon the Ranger; Aragorn son of Arathorn engaged to Evening Star of the Elves.   
  
When Legolas was sure he should feel sorrow for the Lady, he found her misplaced interest strangely amusing. Her heart was where it did not belong, and the ghost of her own hope was inviting her to approach the man she desired. But Hope…Estel…did not really call for her, even as her eyes betrayed her heart's desire and told the entire world where her interest lay. Even as Aragorn told her of Helm's Deep and a secret flame shone in her eyes, and Legolas could not bring himself to feel anything but…pleasure…at the sight  
  
{I am impressed, Princeling}  
{You are?}  
  
Legolas' silent steps carried him away from the meal, after thanking the Lady Éowyn with a forced smile, accompanied by the loud ones of Gimli the dwarf who walked next to him. Refusing his friend's offer to go along with him on a short walk, Legolas then bid his friend goodbye and turned to walk towards his accommodations for the night. He was surprised then, when a rough hand grabbed his wrist.   
  
{Do not touch me!}  
  
"What is it, Master Dwarf?"  
  
Cool eyes regarded him, and were not for the flash of…something…in the pools of blue, Gimli would have reconsidered what he was about to say.  
  
"I find my mind troubled, my friend" The dwarf said, looking straight to the eyes of the Elf "I find no comfort in the knowledge you are riding to war with us"  
  
Fury blazed in Legolas' eyes as he ripped his hand away from the grasp of Gimli, who stood amazed at the amount of feeling those eyes now held. Turning his back on his friend, Legolas took a step towards his room without a word, and desperate for some kind of reassurance, Gimli hurried to stop the Elf taking a step forward of his own and placing a hand on the lithe shoulders.  
  
{Don't you dare touch me…}  
  
The gesture proved to be a mistake.   
  
Legolas' body tensed at the contact, and before Gimli could react, the Elf did. Fast as lightening Legolas' right arm went behind his back and took a bruising hold of Gimli's limb, the rest of the slim body whirling around with a speed that dazzled the Dwarf. His left arm joining the right in the hold on Gimli's extremity, Legolas used his strong grasp to yank the Dwarf to collide hard against the harsh stonewall of the hall they stood on. The surprised yelp of his friend and loud sound of the armor Gimli wore hitting against stone didn't disturb the Elf as the nimble being let go of the arm and went to grab the stout shoulders, turning his friend around so he was left facing Legolas.   
  
It took a few moments for his eyes to focus, but when they did, Gimli still wasn't sure whom he was facing.  
  
Legolas eyes danced with fury and his breathing was labored with the effort of holding it back. To Gimli, that effort was still not enough. Legolas' body was pressed against his own, crushing him to the wall and a pale hand found the neck of the dwarf, turning into a fist and pushing against his windpipe.  
  
"Do. Not. Touch. Me" Legolas hissed out, his face…frighteningly controlled. A mild flush of his cheeks the only thing betraying his feelings.  
  
Gasps for air escaped Gimli's lips and the pressure just increased.  
  
"Unfortunately for you all…I am going to War…and I am going with you"  
  
Black spots danced in front of Gimli's eyes before the Elf relented, letting go and stepping back, his body loosing its tense demeanor. Walking away towards his room through the dark hallway, leaving behind his friend kneeling on the floor and gasping for much needed oxygen, Legolas' last words drifted to Gimli's ears just before the Elf turned the corner.  
  
"Do not make me show you again that I am a capable warrior, Gimli" Legolas said softly, stopping for a moment on his walk, never turning back "The next time, I might give you a full demonstration of a battle"  
  
His silent steps carrying him away, the only sounds left on the hallway were those of Gimli's labored breathing.   
  
****  
  
{What did I do?}  
{He thought you weak}  
{Well, I proved him wrong…}   
{Aye that you did} The voice laughed   
  
It *Laughed*  
  
It was frightening…and strangely reassuring.   
  
{How will I explain my actions later?} Legolas wondered as he entered the lodge, remembering suddenly that to his annoyance, he was to share this space with Gimli and Aragorn.   
{To whom must you explain them? You know why you did it, do you not?}  
{Aye, of course I do, he touched me and accused me of being incapable of handling myself…}  
{Then that is enough. You answer to yourself only, little one, not even your Father has a right to question anything from you…and not even your Father is here}  
  
Nodding to the logic of his thoughts, he lay down on his blankets and slept.  
  
Facing away from the window and the stars it showed and with his eyes closed. He didn't wake when Gimli entered, staring at him as though he were a stranger and neither did he wake when Aragorn entered and was told the story of what had transpired…not even with the argument that ensued…   
  
And he didn't wake when Aragorn stared at him sadly, his eyes resting upon Legolas' calm face well into the night.   
  
****  
  
When the light of day was come into the sky but the sun was not yet risen above the high ridges in the East, Aragorn made ready to depart. His company was all mounted, and he was about to leap into the saddle, when the Lady Éowyn came to bid them farewell.  
  
Legolas observed coldly as she wept, the picture more grievous in one so proud, yet his heart offered her no comfort. His heart hardly offered anything.   
  
That morning he had awoken to find Gimli staring at him, Aragorn long gone to attend his various duties. He had risen from his blankets, folded them carefully, and pulling his face into a repentant expression, he turned to face the dwarf. Walking closer and looking straight into his eyes he had apologized and Gimli had nodded briskly, apparently looking for something he did not find in Legolas' gaze. Whatever he did not find seemed to please Gimli and although the silence between them was still tense, the distrust evaporated slowly from the dwarf's eyes.   
  
Legolas could live with the silence. Preferred it in fact. And he content with the fact Gimli had requested of him no explanations, and had required no further apology. There was only so much Legolas could pretend, after all.   
  
When Aragorn denied the Lady's request, and turned away her begs, he jumped onto the saddle, greatly troubled and rode away. Legolas went on Arod after him, sparing no further glance to Éowyn, and ignoring Gimli's yelp and the tighter hold he had placed on Legolas at the horse's sudden movement.   
  
The light was still grey as they rode, for the sun had not yet climbed over the black ridges of the Haunted Mountain before them. Legolas could see the great distress of the humans as they passed ancient rock walls, and had to admit to being slightly disturbed himself when they reached the shadow of black trees. A suffocating shadow that surrounded them, as the trees cried out in a pain that managed to move the Elf's unnaturally cold heart. Beneath this shadow, the company found a hollow place opening at the mountain's root, and right in their path stood a single mighty stone like a finger of doom.  
  
"My blood runs chill," said Gimli, his voice breaking the silence like a shout. Legolas looked around him to the faces of all his gaze could reach, and found cold fear reflected back at him. He could sympathize with none, though, for his heart was only touched by the mournful and painful song of the trees that wept for the suffocating darkness around them. The voice of Dwarf went unanswered, as the men looked around the place, lacking the words to express their state of mind.   
  
The horses would not pass the threatening stone, until the riders dismounted and led them about. Legolas did so with Arod, offering a hand for Gimli to dismount. The dwarf accepted it warily, and Legolas had to struggle to hide his small smile from the stout being. And so they came at last deep into the glen; and there stood a sheer wall of rock, and in the wall the Dark Door gaped before them like the mouth of night. Signs and figures were carved above its wide arch too dim to read, and fear flowed from it like a grey vapour.  
  
The company halted there, and Legolas could feel the terror eradiating from the humans around him. The ghost of men did not scare him; indeed they were nothing but thin air in his eyes. Memories of what was and was lost, tortured enough to leave an imprint upon the land.   
  
At least Aragorn went in, and the riders reluctantly followed, leading the terrified horses with them. Only the animal's love for their riders drove them to face the terror of the door, and Legolas soon had to struggle with this himself when Arod, the horse of Rohan, refused the way, and he stood sweating and trembling in a fear that was grievous to see.   
  
Sighing sadly for having to force the horse into anything, Legolas laid his hand over the horse's eyes and begun to sing a melody that went soft in the gloom, until the horse suffered himself to be led. Knowing Gimli was behind him, and having seen the fear in his stance, Legolas found himself smiling as he passed in. And there stood Gimli the Dwarf left all alone.  
  
{He didn't think you worthy, little one} The voice laughed {but look at him}  
  
Soon hearing the heavy steps behind him, hurrying to catch up with Elladan who carried a torch at the rear, Legolas forgot about him and focused on the whispering that could now be heard. They had no tongue and their voices carried a unique quality that seemed to unsettle them all. Legolas just murmured softly a blessing in his own tongue. Maybe he could not understand their words, but he could understand their pain. His bright blue eyes glittered in the gloom when he turned to look back and saw their shapes following them. He felt strangely comforted when some of the whispers lost a little of its despair.   
  
When he saw gold reflect the light of the torches the company carried, he turned his eyes in that direction as Aragorn went to investigate, Elladan not far behind. He even saw Gimli approach them.  
  
{Probably for the torches' light} Legolas thought with a small smile that no one saw. He heard the voice laughing.   
  
Without wanting to distance himself from Arod, Legolas just looked from a distance, knowing already what lay there because the light had reached the form of the bones that were once a mighty man with belts of gold and garnets and a helmet rich with gold.   
  
It was then that Aragorn's voice broke the silence.   
  
"For that is not my errand!" the man cried, completing some early murmuring that Legolas had not been able to catch, turning back and speaking to the whispering darkness behind. "Keep your hoards and your secrets hidden in the Accursed Years! Speed only we ask. Let us pass, and then come! I summon you to the Stone of Erech!"  
  
There was no answer to Aragorn's voice, unless it were an utter silence more dreadful than the whispers before; and then a chill blast came in which the torches flickered and went out, and could not be rekindled.  
  
Legolas murmured words of comfort to his horse, even as he smiled. Kept murmuring even as he had to suppress his laughter in fear of alerting the others of his strange amusement. He did not know why but this darkness did not frighten him or bothered him in any way. He felt good here, and his spirits were high. He didn't know why, but the voice seemed so content here as well. He almost regretted he had to leave…  
  
{Why do I feel like this?}  
{Perhaps you feel good among other tortured souls, little one}  
{Perhaps}  
  
Legolas nodded to himself, as he walked forward. An hour or more, he didn't know, wasn't paying attention as he advanced. Whispers started slowly again only to go quiet again. Legolas could almost hear the step of the large mass of…what…people…? Ghosts…that followed them…that followed Aragorn.  
  
{Aragorn of course…who else would they follow?}  
{Does that anger you little one?}  
{Aragorn angers me}  
{Has he done anything today to gain that anger?}  
{Look upon me with distrust, he has, he has done it all day}  
{I see then…do you hate him now?}  
{I hate what he is doing}  
{Do you blame him?}  
{I have admitted it to be so}  
{Do you hate yourself?}  
{That has never been a question}  
{All right, little one…all right…}  
  
After hours of tireless walking they were out of the dark, guided by the sound of water that had reached his ears while still inside that place. Passing through another gate, this one less frightening, to be out into a place he did not recognize. His horse was relieved to be outside once more, and Legolas was thanked for his actions by the beast when it nuzzled Legolas chest gently. Legolas patted the animal tenderly as Gimli approached him to ride.  
  
The Company now mounted again. They rode in file, and evening came on and a deep blue dusk; and still fear pursued the men. Legolas turned to speak to Gimli, instead looking back and the Dwarf saw before his face the glitter in the Elf's bright eyes. A different emotion than the anger he had witnessed last night lay in those blue depths; there was now…excitement? Shining proudly with no haze to cover it. Gimli wondered about what he saw in his friend.   
  
Behind them rode Elladan, last of the Company, but not the last of those that took the downward road.  
  
"The Dead are following," said Legolas, starling Gimli with the clear sound of his voice. "I see shapes of Men and of horses, and pale banners like shreds of cloud, and spears like winter-thickets on a misty night. The Dead are following."  
  
"Yes, the Dead ride behind. They have been summoned," said Elladan, looking at the younger Prince with careful eyes, as if he had noticed something amiss. Perhaps he had…Legolas' voice was light and calm, not at all like any other of the company could sound like at this moment in time. Legolas just smiled at the other elf's inquisitive gaze and turned back to look ahead.   
  
He barely listened as Elladan explained to Gimli they were now in the place men called 'Blackroot' as he focused instead in what he saw ahead.  
  
The Morthond Vale made a great bay that beat up against the sheer southern faces of the mountains. Its steep slopes were grass-grown; but all was grey in that hour, for the sun had gone, and far below lights twinkled in the homes of Men. The vale was rich and many folk dwelt there.  
  
Suddenly, without turning, Aragorn cried aloud so that all could hear: "Friends, forget your weariness! Ride now, ride! We must come to the Stone of Erech ere this day passes, and long still is the way."  
  
It was with a smile that Legolas urged his horse onwards, going faster and faster, enjoying the pace as with it, they seemed to fly over the fields. As they passed, doors closed and windows slammed shut, the cries of the people loud on his ears.  
  
"The King of the Dead! The King of the Dead is come upon us!"  
  
Legolas laughed when he heard the shouts, ignoring Gimli's query at his behavior. He had felt like he should laugh. 'The King of the Dead', Aragorn was for them, and he was seen here as a part of a Dead army. To his eyes the title held honor, and where this thought came from he did not know.   
  
{Does that even make sense? Proud of being counted as a part of this army of dead and haunted souls?}  
{It does seem appropriate do you not think so?}  
  
He went even faster, urging Arod to the poor beast's limit, forcing Gimli to cling onto him tightly in order to prevent the dwarf's deathly fall. Without turning, he could visualize Gimli's wide eyes and panicked expression at the speed they were going at, and the thought brought another laugh out of him.   
  
Something strange was happening with him, and he felt it coming. But he didn't see why should he even try to stop it now…it felt…well…it made him feel alive…  
  
{And it shall feel better, little one…soon…}  
  
To be continued 


	28. Child of Obscurity

**STRONG WARNINGS!!!: **Beware of violence and graphic descriptions of death in this chapter, as well as some rather disturbing images created by my twisted brain. Hide the kids away- gore and much! Angst ahead. Chapter rated R or maybe higher.

**Author Notes:** Kill me I deserve it - I can't believe my writer's block lasted this long and I probably lost most, if not all of my readers. I'm sorry- that's all I can really say. I've been having some rough times, to say the least and this story is more personal to me than most of you probably think. If absolutely anyone out there is still reading this, then I have no sufficient words of gratitude. This is a long chapter to make it up to you- if there's any way I could actually do that.

This whole thing goes for Minka! My very good friend and constant support!

**IMPORTANT:** Answers forthcoming on this chapter! To refresh your memory, an extremely short summary:

There is a voice inside of Legolas, torturing him, haunting him for months- never giving him rest. Slowly it has been gaining on his will, converting his thoughts into twisted versions of what they once were. Legolas slowly began to see the world in grey and black- seeing even his friends as enemies...he fought with Aragorn once, with Gimli more recently- nobody knew how to help him if he did not fight for himself...but how could Legolas fight against his mind and feelings? In the last chapter he began to see reason in what the voice told him-and that leads to dangerous paths...

_Chapter 28: Child of Obscurity_

They rode; their pace harsh and unrelenting, and many mortals stumbled in weariness when their limited time of rest would come. They passed town after deserted town- an army of ghosts on their shadow- the oathbreakers- following Aragorn to find eternal peace in the fulfillment of their promise. Legolas did not tire, nor did he rest, as he found more and more of his thoughts being led to one common destination:

_-Aragorn-_

The King of Men... he mused, as he allowed his eyes to search for the familiar shape of his friend So regal is he, that already he seems above all of us...impertinent, so far from Kingdom or Crown and already he leads these mortals...he dares to call himself 'my' leader...

((You are no man...))

((And yet I follow him...))

((Why do it? What compels you to trail behind him like a servant?))

((I know not...))

((Are you obligated to?))

((Nay))

((Why follow and not lead? Why cower?))

((He's a good leader. Aragorn is- he is- my friend...?))

((Is that a question or a statement?))

((He is- he- I believe he is-))

((Do not follow him))

((What?))

((Why should you?))

On one day they passed Tarlang's Neck and came into Lamedon; and the Shadow Host pressed behind and fear went on before them. That is where they rode now, nearing a darkness that would threaten to swallow them whole.

"The Storm of Mordor," Legolas whispered to himself "The air is stale and oppressive...dark times draw closer."

"You state the obvious," came a sudden voice behind Legolas, and the Elf turned to meet the eyes of Gimli who studied him in exchange. "What are you not stating?"

Legolas looked down at the dwarf, turning back around on the saddle without a second thought. "Are you implying something, master dwarf?" He asked politely- coldly- not really caring.

((Why care for this creature's opinion? Why care about anything at all?))

((You learn fast, little prince. There is no need for care.))

((What is it I learn? My own worth?))

((Listen to the shadows of this places...they call to you...))

Indeed they seemed to call, and Legolas found the whispers were not unpleasant.

"Aye, I believe I am," Gimli muttered, answering his earlier inquiry "You are not yourself."

"You claim to know who I am?" he said lightly, focusing his gaze ahead into the shadows, finding that his eyes were once again drawn towards Aragorn- anger arose in him, when the man didn't even turn, when he must surely feel his gaze, but he clenched it down.

"Perhaps he can't make that claim," interrupted another voice, and Legolas turned mild eyes to Elladan, who now rode alongside them "But I can."

"Can you now?" Legolas smiled tightly, and shook his head "interesting..."

"Legolas?" Elladan said softer now- softly enough to almost be drowned out by the terrible noise of their host "What has befallen you?"

((I am not forced to explain anything))

Legolas did not answer him immediately- was not planning in answering at all- but words left his lips without permission- words that did not reflect his currents thoughts and that brought memories of a time when he had known true fear. "Shadow and flame." He said it clearly- both dwarf and half-Elf heard it- yet the voice was broken, beaten down- almost separated from the proud being that sat in front of them.

"Legolas, stop your horse-we need to talk." Elladan realized it was the wrong thing to say when Legolas' gaze focused on him - the blue crystals reflecting pure ice- screaming at him with no words...

He ordered you- he thinks he's above you- he thinks he knows you...

((I don't even know me))

"You shall never address me such again," the Prince said simply. Not a request but a simple statement of a fact, then he urged his horse onwards, speeding away from Elladan's wide eyes. The half-Elf's blood froze in his veins at the words...at the threat...at the promise.

((You have just sealed your fate, you realize?))

((I realize))

((You made a promise, a pact.))

((I have done it willingly.))

((Will you break it?))

((I will not. There is my honour on the line. He has insulted me, doubted me.))

((Then shall Elrond grieve the loss of a son? The betrayal of his kin?))

Eyes straying forward again, ignoring Gimli's repeated attempts to get him to explain what had just transpired, his gaze once again landed on the familiar shape looming ahead

_-Aragorn-_

((Perhaps he shall have to grieve more than one.))

Legolas paid no mind to the faint whisper of despair that came with his thoughts beneath the dark shadows of the Storm of Mordor as they entered the town of Calembel upon Ciril, where the sun went down like blood and refused to rise once more. No dawn came after their halt on this place- and the shadows, indeed, seemed to swallow them whole.

((I shall die a traitor)) Legolas thought calmly, hours later, as he sat by himself on top of a rock near the camp site. ((I shall kill my friends...I must- how can I not? They are no friends! They dare rise above me- they see themselves above me! How dare they? How dare they overlook me? They are but mortals- below me even if they were not...))

((You believe this?)) The voice asked calmly, and this time- the voice sounded exactly like his voice, no tone he could not recognize it. The voice was his now and he could admit it.

((A Prince of my people and yet they treat me like a child! A child! How dare they? How can I not kill them? I must prove it to them; to all of them- just whom they are mocking...a warrior they mock...they trust me not. Aragorn calls himself a King of man, sees himself above me- even Gimli does! They dare to show me distrust...))

A whisper outside his mind interrupted him, and his startled eyes opened to look around.

((There are voices in the air... )) Legolas thought, as the cold touch of fear threatened to reach him in the dark. The company was taking a break in the town, and he found himself some feet away from the group- resting, breathing in the loneliness and the peace that it brought him. But the shadows were growing heavy around him- and the silence became voices. His mind taken away from Elladan, from death and dishonor - Legolas was sure now he could hear...calls...whispers...screams!

"The Child has come" A cold hand touched him- touched his face- froze him under its hold. "The Lord has won!"

Chants of screams and laughter surrounded him, and Legolas was helpless under the touch of an invisible hand "Look at him..."

"The Child is here"

"Pretty toy..."

"Breaking!"

"Cracking"

"The Ring is ours"

"It shall be mine..."

"The Eye can see you"

"The Child is afraid"

"The Lord is joyful!"

"Look into his eyes..."

"Just scream..."

Legolas' breathing became ragged, as he tried to fight off the invisible hold- but it was hopeless. Cold fingers gripped his face, tore at him, touched his body, his face, his hair...invisible fingers danced on his skin as he felt panic setting in. Suddenly there was silence again, and Legolas fell to his knees, exhausted, looking around as if waking from a nightmare.

((Was I asleep? Was it a nightmare, chasing me here?))

"Feel the change, ..." a clear voice cooed in his ear suddenly, and he jumped- eyes wide. While he felt his heart rate's speed back up, he searched the darkness for the source of the whisper. Nothing again- but it had certainly not been his imagination.

The group stood away from him- even the ghostly army could be seen with them. Away from him-far, far...further than he could reach, it seemed...

"Do you feel it, child of darkness?" The voice was soft spoken...and deathly. Legolas jumped up from his kneeling position, unconsciously grabbing one of his long knives from its scabbard as he observed the darkness warily. There was laughter, and suddenly he was not alone once more. The shadows seemed to form shapes- looming over him, around him- everywhere-

((What is this sorcery? Who speaks?)) He wanted to scream, but his voice was frozen- there were no assailants to fight off, nor a presence to be felt. There was nothing but the voices and the shadows...

((Hush now, princeling)) His own voice said calmly- speaking from some far away corner in his frightened mind ((Hear them...listen to the shadows...))

"The Child is scared!" Screamed a different voice, and Legolas felt his hands turning numb- heard the fall of his knife to the ground as his eyes focused on one particular shadow- one that seemed to surround him- to try to crush him...he was helpless, defenseless...transfixed by the play of shadows...

"He hears us! He can hear us!"

"More than that...he listens!"

"The Lord has won!"

"An Elf to play with...an Elf for us!"

"Who is there?" His own voice came out faint- no strength left behind it...he felt a paralyzing fear- there was no room for rational thoughts...the voices were calling him, were speaking to him, shattering everything else...he had but to listen.

"He answers us!" They cried- and the sounds were joyful, and frightening. "He can hear us- at last! He denies us no further! He speaks to us! The Child of Darkness has awakened!"

"What is this?" he whispered to no one in particular- searching to see beyond the shadows. He no longer could see the group a few feet away- he could not see them! There was only darkness, only shadow...!

"Little one..." The voice was inside his head no longer- was his any longer- but the possessive hiss could be well recognized- could it have materialized in these nightmarish shadows? Could his own mind become another being- another enemy?

"By the Valar!" Legolas screamed, his eyes wide, his limbs shaking- brought back from his trance by the all too real feeling of a hand tilting his face up.

"Legolas?"

Blinking he stared, and saw just the shadows around him, felt his skin bruise beneath the gentle hold on his face. He was shaking, eyes wide- but he could not move away...

"Legolas?"

The hand ran over his face, bruising its path through his skin- it hurt! It hurt him badly! The whispers and the screams continued, as some twisted song to accompany the panic. His breathing was too fast, but it did nothing to muffle their voices...

"The Child is frightened!"

"The Child is helpless!"

"The Child belongs to darkness now..."

"Nay..." He choked out- but they heard him not

"The Child can fight no longer!"

"Nay!" he screamed out, and felt the hands on his face tighten, felt blood on his face- felt the burning pain.

"Legolas!" his captor called to him, and he blinked again- the shadows remaining...

Suddenly the knife was on his hand- never had it been dropped to the ground- and his paralyzed limbs could be moved again. With the hands still on him, he did the only thing he could do against the bruising hold that held him captive...

((Fight!))

The knife pierced through flesh, as Legolas watched, spellbound, the slow appearance of blood that followed the shocked cry from his captor. There were hands on him again, but he could not fight them anymore, as he watched blood welling from the wound he had just caused. The whispers of the shadows sounded gleeful as he listened.

"He has fallen!"

"He is ours..."

The hands on him were bruising him- but he welcomed the pain. Welcome the feel...of anything...

"Legolas!"

The knife...is...where is...?

He looked down in a daze, and found the knife buried in his own shoulder, blood dripping down his body. The voices screamed in his ear as he succumbed slowly to a more profound darkness than the one that surrounded him already.

Aragorn held the limp body of his friend in his grasp, as Elrohir gently cleaned the wound on the archer's shoulder. Confusion welled in the ranger's mind- and despair more profound than any he thought he could know.

His friend seemed long gone now- Legolas had seemingly succumbed, at last.

"Darkness has claimed him." A voice announced suddenly, voicing his thoughts, and the ranger looked up to meet the troubled gaze of Elladan "I believe he could fight it no longer- I see no other explanation for this."

The human sighed, not knowing how to come into the prince's defense. Indeed- the Elf apparently had loss his battle, and the Ranger didn't know what this could mean- didn't know what they were to do now...

Surely not...kill him...? The human shuddered at the thought, and held the unconscious body a little tighter to himself.

An unlikely voice spoke up then, and broke the tense silence of the group. "You think very little of him," said Gimli "if you think this stubborn Elf would surrender so easily-without a fight..."

"You can hardly say he did not fight, Gimli," Aragorn interrupted sadly "But he has been struggling since Moria...the further we go, the further he falls...and now...you did not see him just now..."

Aragorn thought back to the empty look in those familiar blue eyes, to the cold, clammy skin of the Elf as he had stood there, as if paralyzed, staring into nothing with a knife on his hand. When Aragorn had found him like this he had been worried at the lack of response- at the empty look- but his calls were ignored by the Elf, or perhaps not even heard.

Legolas had been somewhere else...had seemingly been unaware that Aragorn had taken his face in his hands, that Aragorn had been calling his name. The Ranger never saw it coming, when suddenly Legolas was yelling out denials and then lifted the knife in his hand- his eyes never clearing - pushed the man away violently with the wooden handle before burying the blade into his own shoulder. Legolas had looked down then, and his blue eyes had apparently focused briefly on the blood, before collapsing into the Ranger's arms.

The blank expression had never changed- not even in pain when the knife was buried into his shoulder. No, Aragorn held no other explanation besides saying that Legolas had finally succumbed to the weight of the shadow that haunted him.

"He has not given up," Gimli said confidently. The man's gaze lifted to meet the eyes of the dwarf as he spoke next "I know he has not."

Elladan and Elrohir remained in silence, but Aragorn could see their doubts showing on their troubled eyes. When the younger twin was done bandaging the Prince's shoulder he sat back, and searched Aragorn's gaze.

"We have to move, Estel- War does not wait for anyone," He said gently, before his gaze lowered to the pale face of Legolas and his eyes softened "What do we do?"

There was a short silence, then Elladan crouched down next to Aragorn, and began to gently put Legolas' tunic back on. "We go forward," he said resolutely "and we take him with us- he is no threat."

Aragorn mechanically helped his foster brother with the tunic, nodding his head as he did, ignoring the slight hesitance his brother's voice had held.

"Of course he is no threat!" the dwarf chuckled mirthlessly "He is just one skinny Elf,"

Aragorn grinned faintly, while the twins remained impassive. "Are you quite sure he won't harm us?" Elrohir spoke softly, and all eyes turned to him "can we control him? He has harmed himself already...could have killed himself even, had he but buried the knife lower."

Aragorn stood from his seat, lifting the slender frame of Legolas easily into his arms "He will wake soon and he will not wake alone in these shadows. I could never do that to him-and neither could any of you. Let us continue our path towards Pelargir-with him." His statement was final and firm. Nobody questioned the decision further- nobody dared to- as they moved towards their horses, ignoring the questioning looks the other men directed towards the unconscious Elf in Aragorn's arms.

One would think unconsciousness would be best for a worn out soul- and one would be wrong. How could Legolas escape the shadows while trapped inside his own fogged mind? The whispers were relentless as he lay there- unable to fight back and walk away- trapped in a nightmare that could well be reality...

"Legolas," The commanding voice of his father boomed, and he whirled around, watching the King of the Northern Elves staring at him with ice on his gaze "Look where your weak heart has led you...is this all you can contribute to the world- only shadow and grief? Look around! Look around and tell me- what good is this all for?"

Afraid. Legolas was afraid to look, to face the shadows- what would he find? He could not do as his father bid him, and yet the anger in those eyes was growing, as he stood there, unable to obey a direct command.

"Father this is not of my making..." He tried to explain, but his words went unheard. His mouth moved he knew he had spoken the words...yet the world, the very air around him seemed to swallow them.

"Look around!" His father said softly, menacingly, in a tone Legolas had only heard him use when talking of the vile creatures of Mordor. "Can you bring yourself to do that, boy? To see what you have done?"

Was this even his father? Legolas wondered, as he stood rooted to the spot, unable to look away from his father's gaze. Suddenly those eyes were no longer blue, they swirled and changed, and all became confusing. What was blue became black and where his father was, stood nothing. Hands guided him, moved, him around, forced him to open his eyes and face the world without his consent.

"Look around..." A deathly whisper in his ear, a simple command that this time-he could not refuse. Like it held a life of its own, his gaze moved and took in the decay and destruction that surrounded him.

His eyes widened, and he opened his mouth to scream, to cry out. Instead there was not a sound, and the shadows that danced around him came closer, moving like flying creatures until they were inside of him, inside his mouth, gagging him and forcing their will on his body. He felt possessed, as his head moved from one side to the other, taking in the grotesque scene.

He stood on the front steps of the palace of Mirkwood-green plants and trees had seemingly melted, leaving pools of slime in the grounds of the town. The houses and surrounding trees burned in dark fire, and all around him the dead bodies of friends lay decomposing. Pools of blood surrounding the corpses gave them a touch of colour that contrasted horribly with their pale skin and dried hairs. Some were barely recognizable as Elves- some were mere skeletons. Others lay there, eyes open and unseeing, all turned in his direction as he stood there- the only one standing. A hand landed suddenly on his shoulder as he watched, heavy and cold, and he could not turn around to see to whom it belonged.

"Do you like what you see?" A voice hissed in his ear, "What you have done?"

"I have done nothing..." To even get the words out took more effort than he expected, almost more than he could handle.

"Nay?" The voice laughed, and its sounds was chillingly familiar "Look closer..."

And in one of the bodies there was a knife buried to the hilt in its throat- the head almost completely separated from the body. The mouth was opened in a silent scream, as the grey eyes stared at him dully. No life in them-a glazed fear frozen for eternity. The face of that body was decomposed almost beyond recognition- but he could identify the features nonetheless, as he could say to what house the clothes the corpse wore belonged to. He recognized the carved knife the body held.

"Elladan...!" He whispered brokenly, wanting to go to his friend and make sure this wasn't real "Elladan..."

"Aye, 'tis the oldest twin of Elrond...surely you remember slaughtering him?" the voice cooed, as Legolas' blood ran cold in his veins "Surely you remember your promise to him?"

"Not a promise..." The prince choked out, and the hand on his shoulder squeezed tighter.

Abruptly he was staring at his own face- hard and unforgiving, and he was facing Elladan's incredulous eyes as an oath filled the air around them.

"You shall never address me such again," Legolas' voice declared loudly.

And then he was back- Elladan's corpse rooting in front of his eyes. "I would dare say you meant that as an oath...I bet Elladan believes that as well." Laughed the voice of his captor "now, would you look at that?"

Cold fingers gripped his chin, and he was turned away from one proud son of Elrond, only to be faced with the other one. Elrohir was not decomposing yet, his features pale and clearly frozen in a grimace of anguish. A gaping wound was where his chest should be, and Legolas felt his stomach churn.

"He tried to defend his brother, ..." the low voice said disapprovingly "against his own best friend..."

"It was not me," Legolas sobbed, breath catching "I would never..."

"Oh, but you would...you did..." The prince looked down to find his clothes covered in fresh blood- red, bright, blood- "he never saw it coming..."

Legolas closed his eyes, only to quickly reopen them in shock when he felt a stabbing pain on his shoulder. "Aragorn gave a mighty fight," came the whisper, "even managed to injure your shoulder before you killed him..."

Legolas felt his body turning around, walking towards the inside of the palace. His steps echoed clearly in the empty hallways as he walked, with no will of his own, towards the throne room. The voice was a constant with every step he took "You punished him for it, though..."

The great door of the room burst open- and there was Aragorn. Legolas fell to his knees and retched, wide eyes filling with tears while his breath came in sobs of despair. The icy hand was on him again- lifting his face and forcing to look. The man sat at the throne, a golden crown well placed on his head, which was on the ground. The headless body was surrounded by a sea of blood, marked with sword wounds of enough depth to make the body seem separated- as if cut into pieces. Images danced in front of his eyes- distant memories of the hoarse screams of his friend as Legolas ran him through with a sword- over and over- never lethal wounds, never finishing him off, until the sword was placed at the neck of the man, and...

Legolas retched again, felt invisible arms lifting him from the ground, holding him steady.

"Now, now...this is what you wanted, is it not? To be the last one standing- to be the strong one...you proved your superiority to all of them...Princeling..."

His vision went white when a wave of agony ran through his body, making every muscle tremble beneath its wake. The Elf fell to the ground, barely able to hold his weight while the agony subsided- his gasps for breath muffled by a laugh from the figure behind him. While the pain became a dull ache, Legolas held his breath until his lungs burned for air- and let it out in a rush when he realized that he regained the control over his limbs...but where could he run to, in this destroyed place? Who would help him? - Crystalline tears ran down his face in burning rivers as he thought of all the corpses...Elladan, Elrohir, Aragorn- had that been Haldir ran through with a sword? Had the skeleton with the clothes of Rivendell been Elrond or Glorfindel?

"Don't weep now, little one...you'll show them weakness? You never know if they may be watching you still..."

"Be Silent! Just...do not talk...shut up..." Legolas screamed- his voice breaking while horrible images ran through his head-he lifted his gaze slowly to meet his own eyes in the figure in front of him "What did you make me do...?"

"I made you open your eyes..." The voice answered softly- the same voice that was with him since Moria...the same voice that had become such a part of himself over time, that it was frightening. The tone was soothing now, and an alien hand that looked like his came down to touch his face gently- it was freezing cold. "I helped you to see what they did to you- to see just how alone you were..."

"I am alone now, " Legolas hissed, fury and despair intertwining in him on a dangerous mixture "How is that helping me? How did you help me at all? You haunted me for months...tormented my mind, my body...drove away my friends...and look at them now..."

"They are at your feet now," His look-alike laughed, standing up and walking away from him "Just like you wanted."

"I did not-"

"Do not waste your breath on me, little one-," The other said "I know your thoughts, your feelings- I know you better than you have ever known yourself. I know you as the scared child you are beneath the layers, and the masks...I know you without any of them to protect you..." he pointed at the rooting corpse of his once-best friend, but Legolas refused to look "I know you, child...and you wish to know me- do you not? You wish to see who hides wearing your face?"

Legolas met the blue orbs that observed him, and shakily stood from the ground on legs that threatened not to support his weight- "You are not I," he whispered dangerously "just as I thought...yet you always denied..."

"And you believed me? Above yourself? Does that not show you how insecure you are- how easily manipulated? They all used you, little one-you know it well- that is why you slaughtered them all in cold blood,"

"You slaughtered them!" Legolas yelled, trying to lurch himself at the leering figure, but he was easily sidestepped, and the shock combined with the confusion and anguish made his body heavy.

"Oh, poor child..." The other whispered, "I did nothing but give you the strength you lacked! You remember their murders, do you not? You remember their screams of betrayal and pain? You remember the satisfaction?"

And he did! Oh Valar, he did remember all of that- remembered and relived it second after second- horrid scenes dancing in front of his gaze. This nightmarish world turned and whirled before his eyes, to find himself once again covered in fresh blood, standing above the bodies of so many familiar faces...

"Legolas?" He looked up and met blue eyes of ice that had somehow escaped from a mirror "Do you want your answers?"

The Elf looked around where he stood -eyes weary and filled with tears- friends and family slaughtered, home burned to ashes...his world shred to pieces- he had no strength left, and he sat on the floor, uncaring for the blood that seeped through his clothes, uncaring of the pain that came from his injured shoulder...just...uncaring...

And it was so that the Prince of the Elves made a decision. Lifting his gaze and meeting those of his tormentor, he smiled slowly- a twisted, deranged smile. "Nay," His voice echoed in this place- and slowly, one by one the horrible images began to fade into blackness "From you- I want nothing further."

Aragorn was exhausted to say the least. Even while his foster brothers had repeatedly offered to help, he had rode with Legolas' unconscious form for hours on end, continuously struggling with the distraught body that at times tried to escape his hold, and at times burrowed closer to his embrace. The Ranger sighed, careful not to disturb his friend as he brushed a strand of blond hair away from the closed eyes. He was not used to this- not used to having Legolas in his arms, helpless and unreachable- was not used to not knowing what he could do to help his friend. Now when the company was giving the horses some time to recover from their unrelenting pace he could feel the whole of the situation taking its toll on him.

"Estel," came the voice to his right and he turned slowly to meet Elrohir's eyes "There are decisions to be made."

The man sighed; nodding his head while his eyes strayed back to the now still form of the Prince of Mirkwood. Face strikingly pale, features drawn and troubled- the Elf seemed beyond anyone's help. "I know," he said simply "but the decision does not become any easier."

The younger twin nodded in silence, taking a seat next to his foster brother while looking at his prostrated friend with pained eyes "I could ride back-" the half-Elf announced suddenly "I could ride back towards Rivendell with him, perhaps bring him to my father..."

Aragorn was already shaking his head when his brother's voice faded away "The path is far too long and hazardous for you to ride it alone, much less caring for Legolas- who could still wake up in the ride and try to head back here. Besides...Elladan and I both need you here..." the human stated calmly, then hesitating upon the words he lowered his voice "I need Legolas here as well."

Elrohir didn't answer, seemingly lost in thought as he stared into the horizon- the look reminded Aragorn of the empty look in Legolas' eyes and the memory brought back the feeling of despair, the anger and the helplessness of the entire situation. He screwed his eyes shut, fist clenching with the urge to do something, to fight against whatever was haunting Legolas, to beat everything ahead of them and just be able to breath, to live in peace...just to finally be able to see hope for all of them. Yet the future was as dim as the very lights of Mordor from his point of view.

Sudden movement made him snap his eyes back open and he stared, incredulous, into the open eyes of Legolas, who was staring back intently.

To be continued.


End file.
